


My Kingdom Come

by DorkPatroller (Lilmissprine)



Series: My Kingdom Come (Series) [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Budding Love, Drinking, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Gentle Sex, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rimming, Smut, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Trust me tbh, stay with me now I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 08:21:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 100,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7677079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilmissprine/pseuds/DorkPatroller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one wanted to meet their soulmate and fall in love quite as badly as Inigo did. He just hadn't expected falling in love to be like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1. September

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Month That Inigo Met His Soulmate

_September_

Inigo took a deep breath through his nose if only to savor the way the little coffee shop smelled. It was a piece of paradise, he often thought, because it was never all that busy and he swore their coffee was twice as good as the chains. It was the perfect sort of day for a warm cup of coffee—just late enough into the month that summer was finally drifting away and blossoming into what would hopefully be a long autumn. Of course, after autumn came Inigo's  _least favorite_ time of year. 

It was no real surprise that Inigo was more than a little practiced at tuning people out when he wanted to, having Owain for a roommate. Still, he was disappointed in himself when he realized he had neglected to notice a lovely lady sitting at a table not far from the door. Her voice cut through his thoughts, caused him to notice her, when she said three little words. “ _Oh, thank god_.”

He tilted his eyes in her direction immediately when he heard that phrase. He looked her up and down and took in the sight of her delicate, olive colored hands tugging her keys out of her purse. She had lost her keys, he supposed, and that was why she was relieved. Because she found them. He didn't say anything to her. He didn't particularly feel inclined to. Instead he cast his brown eyes back down to the floor while he waited for his order.

From the day Inigo was born he had precise script on his side, just along his hip bone. That script spelled out the words “ _Oh, thank God_.” It was the first thing his soulmate would ever say to Inigo, when they met. Most people were born with a soulmate marking (Usually a full sentence), or came into them within their first few years in life. They surfaced on their skin like a brand, always in random places, always in the handwriting of their intended. Inigo often wished his marking said anything _but_ the words it did.

He wanted a hint.

Some people had writing on them that gave them an indicator, a clue. Some people even had generic introductions on them. Inigo hadn't been so lucky. How much easier might his life have been if his hip had instead read the words “My name is...” blank. He had no idea who his soulmate was. He had no idea when they would meet.

“Inigo?” He turned his head and locked eyes with the woman who said his name. She worked in the coffee shop. She pushed two to-go cups in his direction and flashed him a trained smile. “Your drinks are ready!”

“Oh, thank you! I had no idea they let angels prepare the coffee here.” He tried. She stopped smiling and turned away. Inigo sighed and picked up the cups, before venturing out of the store. His life was a collage of one rejection after another. Lovely lady after lovely lady turning him down. Some of them lectured him about soulmates and destiny. Others rejected him without giving a real reason. It didn't make sense!

He lived in a world where everyone was destined to love someone, all they had to do was put themselves out there and say something. So? Where was his true love?

Some peoples' soulmate markings were comical. They were little exclamations of “Oops!” or “Sorry!" Some people had romantic markings. A compliment on their eyes or hair or an otherwise flirtatious compliment. Inigo wondered if his soulmate, wherever they were, had a cheesy pick up line. Honestly he thought that would be sort of cute. He could imagine trailing his fingers over the writing, one day. Or at least he could imagine it, if he could fathom who his soulmate was.

He made his way to the familiar apartment building and into the hallways, until he found their door. His and Owain's door. They had been living alone together since college, but had always been together before that. They had known each other since they were just children. Inigo grew up living right next door, for a while. Until he was ten, precisely. When he was ten he lost his mother. When he was ten he moved in with Owain, because his parents took Inigo in. Both Lissa and Maribelle had been close friends with Olivia.

Inigo was so lucky to have his aunts, because by taking him in the way that they did, they prevented him from truly being an orphan. They kept him from facing foster homes or orphanages. He stayed with them like they were family (even though they were not family, not really. Inigo called them Aunt Lissa and Aunt Maribelle his whole life, but he was not blood related to either of them. Owain was not his cousin, just his best friend).

Owain had a marking on his forearm. Well, two, actually. On his right arm was a different sort of brand, not related to his soulmate but related to his lineage. Once upon a time it meant something important, but no one was really sure what it meant anymore. Lissa never had one, but she was the oddball in her family. Both of her sons had it. On his _left arm_ Owain had his soulmate marking. It was handwriting neither neat nor sloppy, and it said “ _Are you shitting me_?”

Maribelle hated it. Most of Owain's life he had been forced to cover it up because of the vulgar content. It got him into trouble at school on more than one occasion, which Inigo thought was far from fair considering it wasn't his fault. No one could control what _someone else_ said to them. As an adult Owain had just learned to dress in layers, often wearing a thin shirt with the sleeves rolled up just enough that it kept him cool, but not far enough to display his marking.

Inigo sort of liked the marking. It meant that Owain's soulmate had personality. They were frustrated, perhaps? Their first encounter may be an argument. Inigo liked that. He liked those hints. He pushed open the door to their apartment and he was greeted right at the door by Owain, who already had a bag slung on his shoulder and his keys in his hand. He paused when Inigo handed him a cup.

Owain drank sweet coffee drinks with frilly names, and the fact that they had frilly names was only a coincidence in that regard. He enjoyed sweeter drinks. Inigo drank coffee with milk when he drank coffee at all, or he drank a variety of teas. He didn't say anything to Owain right away. He slunk past him and sat down on the couch, with his feet up and taking up the whole length of it.

There was silence between them for a few seconds while he expected Owain to leave, but instead he heard the thump of Owain's bag hitting the floor and watched the blonde take some steps closer to him. Inigo frowned at him when Owain reached out and lifted up his feet from the sofa. He sat down, and then set Inigo's feet right back down so they rested in his lap instead. That wasn't an unfamiliar action by any means, but Inigo still sighed.

“What happened?” Owain asked, and Inigo didn't think he had time to tell him that his whole life was a miserable trail rejections and shame.

Instead he said “You'll miss your flight.” He waited for Owain to give up, but there was something in the way he stared at Inigo that made it clear he had no intention to back down. As a result Inigo groaned out his frustrations. “Someone said it, today.”

“Oh.” Owain began, but then he dipped his head to the side. It was sweet when he did that, it reminded Inigo of Aunt Lissa, but in a way that also made him want to kick Owain. In a way that had just a hint of amusement. “I'm guessing it wasn't the one?”

“Obviously. How long is this going to go on, Owain? I try my hand at picking up women all the _time_ and they never so much as bat an eye! Am I really supposed to sit here and wait for the right person to say those words to me? It isn't fair! I'm getting too old—by the time I find love I'll be ancient.”

“You're _barely_ twenty-three!”

“God, don't remind me! I'm past my prime.” Inigo took a sip of the coffee and Owain laughed at him. Of course, Inigo smiled too if only because that was his own poor attempt at humor. “...Still, it's getting just a tad abysmal. I wish I knew when this 'soulmate' of mine might show up.”

Owain trailed a finger down Inigo's foot and Inigo pulled both of his feet away from the blonde. The action gave Owain the ability to shift, and sit so he was better facing Inigo on the couch. “Chin up, friend! The path of fate may seem to wind, but it takes the truest course! And even if it didn't... soulmates are overrated.”

“Says you! If you don't want yours, I'll take them!”

“Inigo. As much as I hate to admit it, destiny does have a grasp on all of us. The words on your skin are evidence that there is someone out there who is meant for you, and that you are fated to meet. Just...Leave it alone! Ma says a watched pot never boils.”

“She also says that educated children such as hers should know better than to call her that.” Inigo sighed and set aside his cup, if only so he could wrap his arms around his knees. He chewed on his lip. “I'm tired of waiting for it to boil.”

“What?”

“The pot. Boiling. You just used that metaphor.”

“Oh—right.” Owain shrugged and patted the side of Inigo's leg twice when he stood up. “Whatever. If I had the power to conjure your soulmate right before your eyes by the end of the night, I swear to you I would. But I can't, and I've got to go.”

“I know.” Inigo said, to both things he supposed. Owain smiled at him and saluted him playfully, and then he grabbed his stuff and disappeared out the door. He was going to a convention. It was a four hour flight, all week long, and he would have the time of his life. Not to mention he was going to be featured, and he would be signing some books.

In college Owain wrote a book, a novel about time travel. Inigo had enthusiastically encouraged him to send it to a publishing company, and sure enough now Owain was a somewhat well-known author, under the pen name of _Odin Dark_. He had offered to bring Inigo to the convention, too, but... Inigo could hardly imagine a more boring fate than wandering around an convention hall all week eating soft pretzels and probably  _still_ not meeting his soulmate.

The room was quiet for a handful of seconds before Inigo grumbled and slumped further down the length of the sofa. He was going to die old and bored and alone.

 

…

 

Before Inigo's mother died they were inseparable. Partially because he loved to learn from her, he had wanted nothing more than to _be her_ one day. Partially because he was a shy, clingy child who hid behind his mother's leg. She tried everything to help him with his shy behavior. She made sure he was getting along with kids in school, she introduced him personally to Owain when they moved next door to him, she even gave him advice. She told him the fastest way for a man to practice bravery was to talk to women.

In retrospect she probably hadn't meant for him to flirt with every woman he came upon.

Olivia was a ballet dancer. She had made a good name for herself in her career, but she retired from it when Inigo was born. Instead she opened a studio and taught ballet to children. Inigo practiced as hard as he could, because his mother's dancing was just so beautiful. He loved it. But she also had a _special dance_.

When Inigo was ten, shortly before his mother died, she said she would teach him the dance. He had seen it once or twice, but never been taught. He only saw it if he caught her dancing in private. The dance, she told him, was special. It had been passed down in her family for so long that they once performed for kings and even gods or dragons. As she taught him she explained that it had a certain effect on people. It was a dance that made people feel powerful, that made people feel so strong they could take on an army alone, but that it made the performer vulnerable and weak.

He was just a child, he didn't understand that. He just knew his mother was trusting him with steps to a dance she truly loved. They practiced it every weekend, for months, and each time she would teach him just a little more. Then...

Well then she died.

Inigo carried the dance with him over the years. She never taught him the end, but it was alright. He practiced in secret (just as she always had, it was a special dance after all) and he worked on the routine. He had to come up with the last bit on his own, he had to imagine what she might have taught him. He always felt that the last part was just not as spectacular. He always did his best to perfect it. Maybe that was why his dance never felt magical, the way hers did. When Inigo watched his mother dance, he remembered feeling like he wasn't shy anymore. He felt like he could do anything.

Sometimes when he would sneak out at night to dance, he liked to pretend his mother was there to guide him. That night, like any other time, he sought privacy. He liked to wait until it was dark out, when there were less people around. There was a city park not far from their apartment that had a few wilderness trails. One of them was a dirt path, somewhat forgotten and covered with shrubs, but it led to a clearing where the moonlight filtered down through the trees and reflected off of a small pond (more of a puddle than a pond but it was always there). It was just bright enough there for him to see, just bright enough to dance.

Before he began Inigo peeled off his jacket, and he tossed it into the grass a few paces away so he wouldn't trip on it. He took in a long, deep breath. He breathed it back out. Then he pulled himself into a familiar starting position, and he danced.

His mother's dance was different than other dances Inigo practiced. He majored in dance and performance arts in college. He had done his fair share of ballet, too. He just... hadn't had a big break yet. He wasn't famous, the way she was. His mother's dance had power behind it. He wasn't sure if it was truly something to give someone the strength to take on armies, but... the one time he had ever (purposefully) allowed Owain to see it, he whispered theories that it was a lost form of magic.

Magic was ancient. As old as dragons and gods roaming the earth. It just wasn't real, not anymore. Many people often speculated there was a time where magic was practiced and legendary creatures existed. There were records and artworks and cave drawings and it was all probably just bologna, but Owain loved those stories.

Maybe the dance was magical. Of course the power behind it stopped when Olivia's dance ended, and morphed into the dance Inigo had created to replace the ending. Every time, it happened, he could physically feel it. Inigo wished more than anything he would have been able to pass that dance down to his family, to his children, just like she had tried to do with him. It was gone though. The rest of that dance died with her.

Inigo turned under the moonlight, stood high on his toes and focused on his mother's critiques. He was only a child back then, but he often thought he could still hear her voice cheering and guiding him. _Be more assertive in those turns! Extend your focus right through the tips of your fingers!_ And so he did. He pushed his energy into his fingertips, kept his chin up high and a delicate smile on his lips, because it hardly mattered that he was alone, this was still a performance. His heartbeat, his fingertips, his toes, his hips, all of them moved in time with the music pouring into his ears from his earbuds, to a song with no lyrics that his mother used to hum to him when he cried. Eventually he took up humming as well.

The routine slipped away from his mother's dance and into his variation, and that was when Inigo opened an eye and noticed something. Two somethings. Two _people_. He stopped midway through a lung and examined them with eyes that likely reflected both moonlight and pure, unadulterated horror.

People were watching him. He was a performer, he wouldn't have cared if it was any other dance... but this one was special, this one was secret. This was his mother's dance and it was both imperfect and technically incomplete. An earbud fell out of Inigo's ear and he struggled to catch his breath from both the sudden onset of panic and the way the dance raised his heartbeat so high he thought it could burst through him.

His mother always said to him that the dance made the dancer vulnerable. He still wasn't sure why.

Two. There were two. A girl who he imagined was only just fifteen. She had her hands clasped together in front of her mouth and he wasn't sure if she was surprised or excited or both. With her was a man, an adult who was probably older than Inigo. He was so tall. Incredibly tall and that was sort of intimidating. Inigo hardly had the opportunity to process what they looked like, hardly looked at all. Before he could even say anything else, he stared at the man and he choked out a yelp. “Ah! Don't look at me! You didn't see anything, did you?”

Please, he thought, please say they didn't see anything. Maybe if he was lucky he could pretend this whole event never happened? Maybe those people would forget him and leave him alone. He watched the man with wobbly knees and no amount of bravery at all, and he heard him say,

“ _Oh, thank God.”_

Inigo's heart stopped. This was the worst moment of his life! Goosebumps broke out on his arms and his fingertips felt numb, and it was because those words resonated with Inigo. They made his heart slow down to a lazy thud compared to what it had been before. They made him blush, they made his head spin. His hip felt like it was on fire where those words were written in that script, no doubt in _this man's_ script.

This was his soulmate, and he had only just earlier that day been begging to meet them. Him. The hair on his neck stood up and his knees buckled (and he barely caught himself, really) and his whole body shook. His thoughts were overwhelmed by how deeply he wished he could be standing closer to _that man_. He wanted to be closer, but that was irrational and stupid and new.

He was so tall and well dressed and his shoulders were broad and he had these curls in his hair and his voice had been so smooth, even through his relief. Relief. The word turned itself over in Inigo's mind. Why was he relieved? What had Inigo done to make him say those words? It didn't even make sense to him. Inigo swallowed a hard knot in his throat. “I...”

It was a squeak, an embarrassing noise that he couldn't really hide. The girl that was beside him, her hands clapped hard over her mouth and she drew in a gasp of air before she pointed at him, _right at Inigo_ , and she squealed “Oh! Oh it's him! He's the one! Oh, wow!”

The man opened his mouth again, and he started to say something. Maybe to apologize? He said “I'm s--”

But Inigo ran.

 

…

 

Inigo was really not one to drink much. He enjoyed a small glass of wine now and then with a meal but he hardly ever drank anything stronger if only because he was a lightweight. He couldn't hold liquor. When he was drunk he was a mess. It only happened now and then when he got carried away or when a drink tasted more like fruit than it did alcohol. He was the sort of drunk people often expected a sorority girl to be. He was overly affectionate. The last time he was drunk he spent a good few minutes petting Owain's arm where the offensive soulmate marking was and telling him he was good. Not a good friend, not a good person. Just good. Then he laid his head down on the bar and passed out. This, of course, according to Owain and Severa, his sources. He couldn't remember a thing about it. His other habit, when drinking, was to cry. He was a man for crying when he was _sober_. Drinking only made it worse.

Needless to say, when Inigo ducked into the bar while running away from the very destiny he had been seeking earlier that day, he had no intention of _drinking_.

Severa worked at that bar on weeknights. She used the money to pay for school. Most people thought it was cool to know a bar tender, it was like a built-in wing man... but Severa was the least likely person in the world to help him woo ladies, and even if she was Inigo just didn't fit in well in bars. He was more prone to coffee shops or yogurt bars. He rarely visited her at work, in spite of his thoughts that she was making a noble effort to get through graduate school.

He was hardly there for a visit this time. He didn't say a word to her. Inigo ran in the door, Severa snapped her head up and looked at him from behind the bar, and Inigo literally _jumped_ over the counter. His ass hit the floor too fast and it actually hurt a little, but he didn't say a word on the subject. It was only after he was seated on the floor, leaning his back against the cabinets, that he dared to stop and breathe again.

Severa propped her hands on her hips, canted them to one side while she tapped her foot at him expectantly. Inigo looked back up at her with no words on his lips, not even an apology. What was he supposed to say? He had no idea what he was doing. This was all very sudden. She nearly growled at him. “What do you think you're _doing_?”

“I'm dying.” Inigo blurted in a whisper. He reached up and pressed his hand against his chest. Through his tanktop he could feel his heart thudding hard and fast, a drumbeat that matched pace with his sprinting.

“ _Okay..._ ” Severa prompted him. She lifted one hand and rolled it in the air, asking for an explanation. Inigo pushed his hands through his own hair. They were still shaking.

Why had he _done that_?

He had only just been whining to Owain earlier that day about how badly he wanted to find his love and his soulmate. What in the world had possessed him to run away? Of course the answer was clear. _Humiliation_ , his dear friend. What now? Inigo rested his head against the cabinet behind him, a little thud to make his brain work again, perhaps. What if he never saw that man again? He hadn't even asked his name. This could be the only time he ever saw his soulmate. What if this was it?

“I'm actually going to die. Right here.” Inigo whispered again. Severa made a noise caught between a growl and a whine, and Inigo tilted his eyes up to meet hers. Then he waved his hand in frustration. “Stop staring at me! What if someone sees you? They'll know I'm back here!”

“Who are you even hiding from? What happened?” Severa leaned on the counter top, which looked just a little less conspicuous... but she continued to stare at Inigo. He wished she wouldn't, his cheeks flushed, but he looked away from her to distract himself. He considered her question. He sighed.

“I met my soulmate. He saw me dancing. He said—He said it...and it felt right. I _know_ it was him. He's a he, by the way. That was a bit unexpected.”

“Not really.” Severa quipped. Inigo shook his head side to side at her. She asked “Okay, so... what did you say to him?”

“I ran away.”

“Oh.” She laughed. Inigo chanced a glance at her through his bangs and she looked downright jovial. Hysterical, even! She had to reach up and wipe away a tear from her eye!

“It isn't funny!” He shouted as loudly as he comfortably could while still “hiding”. She shook her head side to side at him in response.

“Yes it is! You are a _grown man_ Inigo! You pay taxes! Why in the world would you run away?” Her words came out between little giggles and Inigo sort of wished he hadn't told her what happened. He bit his lip and looked at the floor tiles. She was right, of course. He deserved this stupid embarrassment. He shouldn't have run away.

The next person Severa spoke to certainly wasn't Inigo. He heard the words “Excuse me,” and he knew who it was. He thought he would recognize that voice anywhere, now. It was burned into his brain. His chest tightened up and he squished himself back against the counter as far as he could, like he could disappear into it. Severa shifted her attention to the man and took him in.

Inigo watched her, watching him. Watched him vicariously through her. She snuck down another glance at Inigo and he felt his blush return with twice as much vigor. Did she have to look at him _like that_? Like she was passing silent judgment? She knew, she had to know, because he was so nervous now. Inigo covered his own lips with his index finger, begging her not to sell him out. She snickered and turned back to her 'customer'. “Can I help you, or what?”

“I—yes. A young man, I—did you by chance notice a gentleman run in here?”

He sounded like he was good at public speaking. Perhaps just a little fluster in his voice because of the situation (and honestly who was Inigo to judge, he was hiding behind a bar) but it was melodic and calm. Severa shrugged her shoulders at him. “There are a lot of guys in here. It's a bar. Be more specific.”

There was a moment's hesitation, before the man went on to ask “One with pink hair, perchance?”

Inigo blushed deeper. While he was freaking out he had quickly taken in little details about his soulmate. The voice, the curls, the shoulders. It was sort of humiliating to think he had done the same. Was he really paying attention to what Inigo looked like, and not the fact that he had been flopping around like a fish out of water under the guise of dancing? Severa glanced down at him again. Inigo watched her with widened brown eyes. What was he supposed to do? He didn't know what to do.

He couldn't just stand up and yell 'surprise! I'm here!' could he?

But he knew. The man had to know. Probably because Severa kept looking down at him, kept giving away that there was a person behind the counter. He sighed (was it alright for Inigo to think a sigh was beautiful? He'd hardly spent much time focusing on men in his search for love. Maybe because all his practice was on women. He still got shy around men, now and again). “I mean you no disrespect,” he said, and Inigo wondered what that meant, until he realized it meant he knew Severa was lying. “...but perhaps you can give him this?”

Inigo watched Severa reach out, and she pulled something close to her chest. He realized right away it was his jacket. When he ran off he supposed he had left it there, discarded on the ground. Inigo pulled on his own hair, threatened to rip it out, because he was so mad at himself. Severa reached out again and took a folded up piece of paper. One that she immediately (she didn't even pretend to be discreet!) passed to Inigo. He hesitantly reached out for it.

“What does it say?” Severa asked, as if Inigo wasn't right there holding it. The man made a noise caught somewhere between a chuckle and annoyance. It was sort of a nice noise, Inigo thought.

“A short apology for the circumstances of our meeting. Also contact information.”

“Well Inigo really doesn't like it when people catch him dancing. It's one of his like 500 quirks.” Inigo slapped Severa in the leg. She kicked him. He yelped—loudly--and then promptly covered his mouth. “Honestly I don't think I should give him this stuff. I don't even know who it's from. Besides, it's not my job to ask him out for you or whatever. That's just gross.”

“Severa!” Inigo shouted. Then he supposed he realized he had shouted for the second time since he was in hiding. Severa looked down at him and rolled her eyes.

“I'm out, dude. Get out from behind my bar.” Severa rolled her eyes. She reached down and tugged Inigo up by his arm, and he covered his face the moment he knew it was in view of his soulmate. His soulmate who had come all this way to give him back his jacket. Severa pushed him in the direction of the counter flap, so he could leave without jumping over again. “Go! Both of you, get out of the bar. And you—Soulmate Guy—be nice to Inigo.”

He didn't say anything. In fact, he was looking at Inigo again. Inigo, whose cheeks were tinted just as pink as his hair. He opened his mouth to apologize, only to have his jacket thrown at his face by the red head behind the counter. “Don't forget your jacket again.”

He walked outside and prayed for mercy and cool air on his face. He didn't get that. He got a squeal and two hands wrapping around his own. “Oh—I...”

“He found you! I'm so excited!”

“I'm sorry, I...” Inigo was at a loss for words. This was the girl who was with him before. The girl who saw him dancing. She had been excited before and based on how she was rocking on her heels she seemed to be excited now. She was very cute. She had pigtails, but her hair curled, almost spiraled, and so it was very fashionable. As opposed to... plain pigtails, he supposed.

“When you ran away we were so worried! Are you okay? Put on your jacket, silly! It's chilly out here!”

“Elise, please. You haven't even introduced yourself.” His voice was stern but there was a very obvious undertone of amusement to it. Inigo looked back in his direction, not-so-subtly having to tilt his head up to look into his eyes. He pulled his hands away from the girl, Elise, and he took her advice and slipped his jacket back on. She stole his attention again right after. 

“Oh! My name is Elise. I'm Xander's little sister! Your dance was _so pretty_! You're so good!” She was so cute, and not even in the way Inigo often chased after. She was cute in a very precisely childish way. It was _adorable_ , but her flattery had color creeping into his cheeks again. He was able to avoid most of that blush if only because he had focused on one word she said.

 _Xander_.

He turned his head to the side and looked at him again. His name was Xander, if context served him correctly, and that was... obvious? It felt very natural to Inigo. He wanted to introduce himself, started to squeak that out, but before he could Elise giggled at him. _Giggled_. A real giggle, like a little girl in a cartoon. He didn't think he'd ever heard a real person do that before. “I'm so glad you weren't in the bathroom! Oh! I'm being rude. You should talk to each other! I'm going to walk across the street okay! That way you can have some privacy!” The bathroom. Inigo wasn't even sure what that was supposed to mean. He didn't try to make sense of anything she said, in the moment.

Xander lifted his hand at her, like he thought that was a bad idea. She didn't say a word to him, just turned her head left and right to check for traffic and then all but skipped across the street.

Inigo turned on his heel to face Xander. His soulmate. He chewed his lip. They stared in silence for a few moments. Inigo took him in. Blonde, just like his sister. Obviously still tall, he hadn't shrunk any since they last awkwardly stared at each other. He looked very serious. More serious than Inigo was by a mile. Inigo breathed out the words in a sigh “This is humiliating.”

“I can imagine there are worse ways to meet.” Xander said. He slid his hand up to rest on the back of his neck. “But you aren't wrong. This is far from the ideal meeting. Please, let me introduce myself. My name is Xander. Your name is Inigo?”

Oh, it was sort of perfect when he said it. _Say it again_. Inigo's name had never sounded perfect before. Clearly it just took the right person to say it. He nodded his head, but then changed his mind and shook it side to side. “I am a much, _much_ better person than this. I was startled is all, this was very unexpected. Would it be too much trouble if we just... pretended tonight never happened?”

His face was hard to read. He was very good at masking his feelings. Inigo could already tell. His face seemed like it was consistently resting in a tiny frown, and stress marks that didn't look like they belonged on a man so young were a telltale sign that he was overworked. Even so, Inigo was able to catch the faintest hint of... disappointment? He bit his lip.

Xander cleared his throat. “You're not interested in getting to know me? How... bold of you, to say it directly to my face.”

Why was he so horrible at relationships? How had he managed to convey that message? “What? No! I am! I'm interested!” Well, not desperate. Now he just sounded desperate. Was he desperate? Inigo tugged on the sleeves of his jacket and tried to rectify... everything. Quickly. “I didn't mean that at all. I would like to get to know you. I just sort of hoped you might forget that I ran away like a frightened animal.”

“Oh.” Inigo waited, but for a few seconds he was forced to endure silence. He shifted from one foot to the other. Xander finally said something else. “I work long hours. I won't be free until this weekend... but if you would like, we can start fresh over coffee.”

Inigo swore relief flooded into him like a warm wave. Xander was going to give him a chance to behave like an adult. He may actually pretend this never happened (and that would be ideal). Still, he wasn't sure that going on a date was the best solution. Granted, this was his soulmate, but he had no idea who he was. He wanted to know what he was getting himself into, and so he asked, “ _Friendly_ coffee?”

Xander's frown slipped upwards into a very short and very tiny smile. Inigo actually melted a little bit. Very cute. “Friendly coffee.”

 

…

 

Inigo was pretty confident this was going to be a better day. He had the whole week to recover from his meeting with his soulmate. He had mentally prepared himself for this moment. It had taken... work.

Honestly it was not uncommon for people to come into their sexuality when they met their soulmate. Inigo was not that concerned with the fact that Xander was of the male variety. He had more practice flirting with women (in his efforts to make himself look strong or brave or worthy) but it wasn't really as if he hadn't entertained the idea of men before. Most people just _assumed_ a male dancer with pink hair was gay. No, that was far from what he had to mentally prepare himself for.

It was just... strange. All of it was strange. There he was sitting at a table in his favorite coffee shop, and this time he was with his _soulmate_. He was sitting across from a man who wore a pale lavender button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and he was with his soulmate. This man. This was his 'forever'. It was so hard to wrap his head around. That blonde hair, those eyes that were _remarkably_ , the color of red wine. Those were things he was destined to see every day. There was a very good chance he would spend his life with this man. Soulmates often worked out. It was very rare for them to part ways.

Almost impossible.

He couldn't really imagine it. A world where he could wake up beside this man, where could he kiss his face and ask about his day. It was so _weird_. It was like someone had come from the future and told him how it ended... and Inigo wondered if all soulmates went through this phase, this confusion. He wondered if it was awkward for everyone... or just a shy boy like himself.

He was swirling his spoon around in his coffee when Xander caught him staring, and Inigo looked down with a blush. Xander was a very nice looking man. Inigo was not disappointed. He wondered... if Inigo was a disappointment, to Xander. Surely no one actively wanted to be matched up with him... lest any of the many girls he'd ever tried to woo actually reciprocate a compliment.

Silence wouldn't do, though. He was supposed to be proving he could sit down and have a conversation like an adult, that day. He worked up enough bravery that he could ask his question without his voice betraying him. “What do you do?”

Xander seemed to relax. Visibly. Inigo wondered if that meant he had felt awkward in the silence, too? Or maybe he just rather enjoyed talking about work. Inigo put his head in his hand, on the table. He noticed that Xander sat with fine posture, with his elbows tucked at his sides and nowhere near the table. He didn't bother to correct his own posture. Maribelle would have scolded him.

“I am the C.O.O. of my father's company, Krakenburg Enterprises.” Xander said, and Inigo did his best not to frown immediately. Krakenburg Enterprises was the reason Nohr was so horrible, in Inigo's not-so-humble opinion. Their businesses were responsible for rather large portion of the pollution, refused to recycle, and from what Inigo had heard it was often a person's least favorite place to work. Of course, as the C.O.O. Inigo imagined he worked in the fancy sky scraper downtown, not in one of the factories. Still, what Xander said meant that his father owned the company... and how could he own it without knowing how horrible it was for the environment? “You look troubled.”

“What? No—I... sorry. I just got distracted. What do you do as a C.O.O.?” Inigo tried, and he forced a smile on his face. Xander didn't smile back. He shrugged his shoulders, actually.

He really did have such broad shoulders that Inigo was sure he gave great hugs. Not that he really was in any position to ask for a hug. Especially not when he was doing such a horrible job of paying attention to him. Xander said “Mostly I oversee daily operations. I keep up with lower level executives. It is a lot of paperwork and a lot of conference calls and meetings. It is...time consuming, and far from riveting. What do you do for a living?”

Inigo bet that Xander's family had their fair share of money, if they owned that company. Inigo, alternatively, did not. He and Owain made _just enough money_ to scrape by in their apartment. Inigo didn't mind. Money wasn't really a valuable object, was it? So long as they could scrape by, they were doing fine. Someday Owain would be a famous novelist and Inigo would be a famous dancer, and until then he didn't mind shopping at a discount grocery store.

“I teach yoga classes.” Inigo answered, and it was true. “Four days a week at a gym. It's not a very flashy job, but it pays the bills.” Well it paid half the bills. He didn't think he could afford to live on his own with that job.

Xander either feigned interest, or he really was interested, because he said “They say yoga is very relaxing. Is it? I've never tried.”

Inigo flashed a smile at the blonde, already trying to imagine him doing yoga. It was hard. He didn't strike Inigo as a yoga sort of person. He seemed more like the sort to go to a gym and find a treadmill or weights. “Well obviously any sort of exercise is good for you. Yoga improves circulation and blood flow. It makes you smarter, too. Breathing properly and the like.”

That tiny smile found it's way onto Xander's face again, and so Inigo melted again. Why was that so... good? It was a warm and fuzzy feeling, that little smile. Maybe, Inigo worried, it was rare? He would hope that his soulmate was destined to smile often. Xander said “Am I to believe I am breathing _incorrectly?_ ”

“Oh, definitely.” Inigo shifted so he was no longer resting his head on his hands, and took a drink from his cup in an effort to pretend he wasn't as amused as he was. “All wrong. I'm a teacher, you see, so I can tell from a distance. You should take a class.”

“Not likely.” Xander answered softly, and with just a hint of amusement in his voice. Inigo supposed he was probably too busy for those sorts of things anyway. “You dance and you teach yoga, then?”

It had been fun, bantering around with Xander, but his face fell and a hint of pink touched his cheeks when Xander brought up the dancing. “Er—well sort of. Now and then I dance in local performances, but nothing with high renown. That dance you saw... that was unfinished. I'm much more open to dancing for people when the moves are complete.”

“I imagine you might prefer to be aware you have an audience, too?”

Was that a joke? Inigo smiled, certainly. “That does often help, yes. I prefer to know where to smile. Do you have any hobbies?”

“Few that I care about.” Xander admitted. Inigo watched him take a sip from his cup and wondered what that really meant. He waited for further explanation, and the blonde nodded his head. His hair bounced when he nodded. Inigo _really liked_ his hair. “I admit that I'm something of a workaholic. I don't have time for many extracurricular activities. I enjoy playing the piano, I suppose. ...I apologize if this is an odd question to ask, but you're wearing a ring..?”

Inigo looked at Xander with genuine confusion before he looked straight down at his hand. He'd wrapped both of them around his cup, but his left hand overlaid the right. Xander wasn't wrong, he was wearing a ring. It was white gold with a solitaire opal. He looked back at Xander and flashed him a grin. “Are you worried that your soulmate might be married to someone else?” It wasn't even all the way out of his mouth before he thought it was the stupidest thing he'd ever said, and he pulled his hands close to himself to twist the ring nervously around on his finger. Xander looked less amused than before, and his face looked... pre-blush. Was that possible? There was no trace of red on his face, but he certainly looked like he could have been blushing.

Maybe he _was_ worried that Inigo was married?

“It was my mother's.” Inigo explained. “She passed away when I was ten. I haven't got many things to remember her by, is all.” Of course the fact that he could wear it on its intended finger only went to show he had wiry fingers, he thought. Wearing his mother's wedding ring may also have had something to do with the many times he had struck out with the ladies in the past, but... it was not an option. He always wore it. Even as a child he wore it on a chain.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply...”

“What? Oh—no. I was the one who was joking about it. Honestly, please, it's nothing to apologize about and—oh.” Inigo stopped talking when his phone buzzed at him. He turned it over and noticed it was an alarm, and he blushed. “Is it already three?”

Xander seemed startled, but he looked down at his wristwatch and frowned. “I suppose it is.”

“I want to pick up my roommate at the airport.” Inigo was actually very excited to see Owain again. He had been gone for a week, he surely brought back some interesting stories, and he would have a diary full of nonsense for Inigo to read... and Inigo could brag to him about having met his soulmate.

Hesitation crept into Inigo's voice, and he hated himself for it, but he looked at Xander and asked quietly, “Would it... be alright if we did this again, sometime soon?”

Xander smiled at him, and this time it was a little bigger than the previous tiny smiles. Inigo actually almost died looking at it. Maybe the reason Xander didn't smile so much was because his radiance would actually bring grown men to their knees? “I would like that.”

Relief. He reached out for a pen and napkin, and jotted down his phone number, a little winky face, and the words 'text me'. Then he passed the napkin towards Xander. “I... I should go. Thank you. This was really... better. I didn't even run away! Ah, ha. That was a joke. I... right. Goodbye, Xander.”

 

…

 

Xander's car was the sort of car that Inigo would have expected a probably-very-wealthy businessman to have. It was a black convertible and clearly foreign and the seats were made of white leather that made Inigo incredibly uncomfortable. From the moment he took a seat in the car he had anxiety that he was going to stain it or something. Honestly there was nothing on him he could stain it with, but the crippling fear that he might ruin something that expensive had him tucking his hands between his knees so he couldn't touch anything more than he had to.

He was pretty excited. It had been another week since the friendly coffee... but Inigo had learned a few things about Xander since then. The first thing he had learned was that he texted like a dad. All of his text messages were strictly to the point, and the process of arranging their date had been pretty quick as a result.

Inigo sent text messages like a monster. He forwent all grammatical laws and entirely composed his messages out of abbreviations and a dash of sin. He sent three or four messages in a row because he couldn't grasp the concept of getting everything out in one message. Needless to say it had been a fun experience texting Xander.

He'd also googled him. Was it a sin to google your soulmate, when you knew who they were? Inigo didn't know what the rules were about that. Xander was the C.O.O. and direct heir to a huge company. He had a wikipedia page. Remarkably little on the page about his personal life, which Inigo sort of thought was unfair after he'd gone through the trouble of typing his name into a search engine. It spoke a lot to his accomplishments though, and... Xander appeared to have many side projects that Inigo hadn't realized were his own. One of them was the program that encouraged recycling bins to be placed alongside garbage cans in public parks and shopping centers.

So if nothing else Inigo supposed he couldn't hate Xander for working where he did, because it was obvious he was trying to correct some of the damage. Inigo wondered if it was very difficult to work for his father. He'd heard nothing but bad things about Garon, truly. Of course, he'd never bothered to ask someone who might have liked him. He also wondered if Xander had plans to change things around when he inherited the company. That could have been years and years in the future though, so it wasn't like it mattered.

Inigo was excited for their date because it was a real date, he thought, this time. Inigo felt comfortable calling it a first date. He also thought he had conquered his earlier bewilderment about his soulmate. Yes, Xander was his soulmate, but... that didn't matter, did it? These dates were just like any other dates, where they would get to know one another and learn about each other and decide if they even _liked_ each other.

Owain had been helpful in reminding Inigo that soulmates were never a guarantee. Sometimes they didn't work out (rarely), sometimes they were entirely platonic (still rare but far less rare), and most times people met their soulmate long before they were meant to be with them. It could take years to develop a real relationship, just as it did with all other things. Inigo appreciated the comments, even if he knew Owain just had a bug up his butt about the subject. He _really hated_ being a pawn of predetermined fate or whatever he always said. Inigo may not have been thrilled if he'd had to spend his life with the words “ _Are you shitting me?”_ on his arm, either. (He still thought it was a good marking, though.)

He was excited for the date (he wasn't even sure what they were doing, but he imagined the classic first date expectation was to see some sort of movie), he was nervous about the car (what if he stained it with his poor-person presence), but he was mostly just glad this had finally happened. Glad that he had met his soulmate. He wasn't even mad about their meeting, not really. He was just so happy to finally meet. Finally someone who wouldn't scoff and tell him to get lost. Finally someone who might appreciate his offers to take them out for tea or who wouldn't assume the worst of him when he offered a compliment. 

And lord, did Inigo have about 200 compliments saved up for Xander, because he was a very fine specimen of a man. Honestly Inigo's biggest concern was that he wasn't sure how to go about showering compliments on a man. Some men may not appreciate being told how lovely they were, the same way women did. (Then again, the women hardly appreciated it either so what did Inigo know?)

He opened his mouth to say something, anything really, but instead of his voice he heard something else. A ringtone. A _default_ ringtone, and he closed his mouth immediately and thought it was just like Xander and his dad-texting to have the default tone on his phone still. He said nothing when Xander noticed his stare, just looked away to hide the tiny smile on his face.

When Xander answered the phone he didn't even say a word before Inigo could hear a voice shrieking. The blonde physically flinched, pulled the phone away from his ear, and Inigo thought the car may have swerved just slightly.

“Elise, please, I can't understand you when you talk like that.” Xander muttered. Inigo remembered Elise. She was the excitable girl that had been with Xander. His little sister. In retrospect she seemed very sweet, and part of Inigo worried he had been a little cold to her when they met. It wasn't his fault, he was wading through an ocean of humiliation at the time. “Wha—Corrin is home?”

Inigo didn't know who Corrin was. He regretted not asking Xander more about himself over coffee the previous week. He had every intention of asking him a hundred questions that day, but he could sort of tell this was important in the way that Xander sent Inigo a sideways glance and a frown.

“Of course, I'll be right there.” Xander said, and Inigo's heart fell into his stomach. This sounded a lot like it was more important than their date. He supposed it didn't matter—they could go on a date any day. He pressed his lips together nervously and waited, until the beautiful blonde beside him spoke up again. “That was Elise.”

“I gathered. She seems like a bundle of energy. Who is... Corrin?” He asked the question with more confidence than he actually felt. He had taken to spinning his mother's ring around his finger again, waiting for the inevitable. The date was going to be postponed. He had been excited for nothing.

The car came to a stop at a light, and Inigo noticed that Xander intended to take a left. Probably to turn around. He said “Corrin is my sister. She is an exemplary humanitarian, and she has been living overseas for a year, now. She and her husband have been missionaries there, working to build homes for those in need. I knew she planned to return this month. I suppose it shouldn't have been a surprise that she dropped in unannounced. I am... sorry. I need to be there.”

“Wow.” Inigo turned to look at Xander and blushed when he realized that he'd been watching him the whole time. Quickly he looked away from him and cleared his throat. Someday he would conquer his shyness. Just not that day. “Ah—please. Don't be sorry! She sounds wonderful. I'm happy to hear she's back safely! I had no idea you had other siblings.”

The light turned and Xander's attention shifted back to the road so he could drive. Inigo was sort of relieved, he thought he could physically feel his gaze lift off of him. “I have three, actually. Sisters, that is, and also a brother. I am the eldest of five. Six if you count the leech. Do you have any siblings?”

 _Leech_. Inigo wondered what that meant. Did Xander have a sibling he chose not to love? Was that a joke that Inigo just didn't understand? It could have gone either way. He said leech like that, and it made him wonder if that meant they were only interested in money. Xander had a lot of money, after all. Inigo hadn't... bothered to care about it. He wasn't particularly interested in Xander's money, so much as he just wanted to love and be loved, but... he wondered if he should be careful not to imply that he was interested in money? _He_ didn't want to be perceived as a leech.

“Er, no.” he answered the question, “My father died when I was too young to really recall him, and my lovely mother never remarried. But I grew up with Owain and his brother, his name is Brady, and they're very much like brothers to me, I suppose.” He did live with them for the vast majority of his life. They did things all brothers did. They fought, they wrestled, they played keep away, and they poked fun at each other.

“I feel terrible for cutting this short.” Xander repeated his earlier apology, and Inigo actually believed he felt bad. He raised his hands gently, like he could shoo away the very thoughts.

“Please! I am nothing if not accustomed to my dates ending early.”

Xander's face drew into a small frown, and he was quiet. Inigo blushed, and his stomach knotted with anxiety. That was supposed to be a joke, although he supposed he hadn't told Xander much about his philandering ways, yet. Anyone who knew him, _anyone_  else may have found it funny, but he could see he had made Xander somewhat upset with the comment. He felt stupid, too, and blush crawled down to his neck when he added in a whisper, “R-Really Xander, it's alright.”

His words were overlapped with Xander's, when he said “Would you like...” but he trailed off. He clearly hesitated. Inigo wondered why. He tilted his head just a little to the side, and when his patience didn't pay off he prompted him.

“Would I like..?”

Xander exhaled a tiny sigh through his nose. Inigo wanted to joke that he was breathing wrong, again. He didn't. “Would you like to meet my family?”

 _Wow_.

Inigo wasn't sure what to say to that. This was only their second date, after all, and it was the first date that was even being called a 'date'. And even then, they hadn't even actually _completed it_. With half a date under their belts, he thought it was a little early to be meeting Xander's family. That was often reserved for when you knew someone wouldn't disgrace you in front of them, wasn't it? What if Inigo embarrassed him in front of his siblings?

He couldn't really say _no_ though, could he? Xander had clearly asked him out of pity. It was obviously a reaction to Inigo's misfired joke. Still, the gesture was kind and evidence that he _cared_ how Inigo felt, even though they hardly knew each other outside of one friendly coffee and their potential endgame. If he said no it would be like spitting on his kindness. He couldn't say no. Besides... what if this was his only chance to meet this Corrin character? She may up and leave for another mission trip, for all Inigo knew.

“I... would be happy to meet them, if you would like me to.”

 

…

 

Xander lived in a mansion. Not just a big house. A mansion. Inigo had not actually prepared himself for that. There was literally a wrought iron gate surrounding the property, and a garden with a topiary and all sorts of flowerbeds. There was an entryway, a foyer, and it branched off into multiple rooms. Inigo could see through the large, open doorways that there were multiple sitting rooms. The room that Xander led him to must have been their favorite, because that was where everyone was.

It felt crowded and loud, Inigo thought, but there really weren't that many people there. They had to all be family. There was music playing quietly, like it was some sort of party. Inigo was sure he saw a wine glass in the hand of at least two people. Their chatter was loud, and so were the voices of a couple of kids running around. It almost felt like a family get together on a holiday.

Xander moved quickly to a young woman (she actually looked like she was close in age to Inigo) with incredibly pale hair that had just a hint of blonde to it. It was long and had a headband pushed into it. Immediately upon touching her shoulder she turned to face him and lit up like a light. She jumped and threw her arms around him, and he caught her (impressive) to spin her around briefly.

It was very cute, Inigo thought. He did not want to interrupt this meeting, of course. It was a reunion! He had no place here to begin with, and so he stepped into the corner and watched. With the young woman, who Inigo only _assumed_ was Corrin, was a man who was tall but certainly not as tall as Xander by any means. He had hair that was silvery-gray, and he styled it like he thought he was part of a boy band or something, gelled up in the front. Xander offered him a hug as well. A very manly hug that started out as a handshake and turned into an embrace.

There were two children in the room. One of them shared the light hair that Corrin had, nearly exactly, and she also had a headband pushed into her hair. She had a little button nose and blue jeans and a shirt with a horse on the front, and she couldn't have been more than three. The other child didn't look at all like Corrin, and so Inigo assumed that she belonged to someone else. She was close in age to the first, with bouncy blonde ringlets and a fluffy pink dress. Side by side they couldn't have been dressed more differently. 

A woman who was taller than Inigo for sure was standing not far from Xander. She had the same curls in her hair as he did, but her hair was lavender and ultimately very pretty. She was actually _beautiful_. Inigo thought his heart clenched when he saw her. She was gorgeous. She had lusty, lidded eyes and _honestly_ Inigo didn't mean to stare but she was very well endowed and... was she holding two drinks?

He tore his eyes from her and he noticed a blonde man. Tall, but not as tall as his sister. Probably taller than Inigo. His hair didn't curl the way Xander's did but he sure did look like him. They shared many features, although this man was clearly younger. He _also_ could have been Inigo's age. It was clear that all of these siblings were close in age.

Finally he noticed the odd man out. He was clearly not their sibling. Or, if he was, it was a step or half sibling. His hair was snowy and white, and his skin was copper, and he looked like trouble with a sort of devious smirk on his face. He turned and noticed Inigo watching him, and Inigo looked away.

A gasp snapped Inigo out of his thoughts, and he turned his head to face the sound. “Inigo! You're here!” It was Elise and her enchanting giggles. She was just as cute as she had been two weeks before, but Inigo was still surprised when she ran right up to him and took him by his hand. “I'm so glad you came!”

“Oh—well... Nothing could brighten my day more than seeing your smiling face, Elise.” Inigo tried. Not to be a flirt, he hardly thought it was appropriate to flirt with anyone here (which was a shame because he thought both Corrin _and_ Camilla were beauties just waiting to be swept off their feet). He just thought Elise deserved the compliments. Maybe to make up for being so nervous when they previously met.

She beamed at him with a smile so bright he thought the sun might be jealous, and pulled him forward. “Yay! You've just got to meet Corrin, alright? She's so great! Come on!” She pulled on his hands and he let her guide him forward, but he wished she wouldn't, deep down. He had no business interrupting this family moment.

Corrin turned to look at him simply because they were standing near each other. She was just a smidge shorter than him, and truly thank god that he wasn't the shortest person in attendance (save Elise, but she hardly counted). She was even more radiant up close and in person, and she dipped her head all the way to one side until her hair fell over her shoulder. “Hello! My name is Corrin. We haven't been introduced yet, have we? I'm horrible with remembering faces...”

Inigo chuckled and was already shaking his head no. “I've never had the pleasu--”

He began, but he stopped because Elise interrupted the comment. She clasped her hands together and bounced on her feet and said in a voice that was _far_ too loud “This is Inigo! He's Xander's _soulmate_!”

"..."

Everything stopped. Inigo counted four seconds after those words came out of her mouth, and every single person in the room was staring directly at him. All chatter ceased. All hugging ended. The music even felt quieter. Inigo wanted to disappear, and color slipped into his cheeks instantaneously. Everyone in Xander's entire family was staring _right at him_.

It went on forever. _Forever._ Inigo shifted uncomfortably, pulled his hands together in front of him to twist his ring in his nerves, prayed that his face wasn't as red as he felt. Finally someone spoke up, and of all the someones it could be it was the man who looked like trouble. “ _Ooh_? So this is toilet boy? You're not what I expected. Very pink.” If he meant his hair or his skin Inigo couldn't have guessed, all he knew was that he was confused and scared and wanted to run away. Unfortunately there was nowhere to run. He was inside a gated mansion.

“Please, Niles, do not call him that.” Xander spoke up.

Inigo had no idea what that meant, really. This was the second time, he realized, someone had mentioned him in the same breath as a toilet. “W-What..? I... toilet...?” He tried, but his question came out in sputters and not as an actual sentence. Niles snorted--and Corrin covered up a snicker, too. At least he had a name for that face, now. Niles, Niles,  _Niles_. Ultimately, he imagined, his least favorite person. Probably. Although he supposed he should have directed most of his frustration at Elise. She was, after all, the cause of this.

That precious, horrible girl.

“Oh, he's so flustered, the poor dear.” It was the woman with the lavender hair who said that, and her voice was dripping with something akin to compassion. Or maybe just wine. She walked closer to Inigo and the moment she did she passed her two glasses of wine (she'd one in each hand, Inigo hadn't imagined that) to the blonde brother. “Here, Leo, hold these.”

Leo. Leo was Xander's brother. Inigo wanted to remember, because he was never going to show his face in front of them again if he was lucky. This would be his only opportunity to put a face with a name. That beautiful, busty woman, she stepped _uncomfortably_ close to Inigo and pressed the backs of her cold fingertips against his cheeks. They burned hotter the moment she touched him.

To think he had been worried that _he_ might embarrass  _Xander_. 

This was the worst moment of his life, thus far. He'd thought it had been when he met his soulmate, but he was clearly wrong. She was so close to him and it was _uncomfortable_. So close. What was worse was that in her heels and with her height advantage over him his nose was _directly_ met with her breasts. She wasn't doing a good job of hiding those breasts, either, her shirt was a deep, plunging neckline. He squeezed his eyes shut so he could pretend he was looking at anything but her remarkable cleavage, but it was impossible to pretend. She'd practically put his face directly into her chest. The corners of his eyes stung with humiliated tears, but he held them back with the last tiny, fraction of willpower he had left.  _I don't want to cry here._

This was his nightmare. This was hell. Everyone was staring at him and this woman was cooing over how embarrassed he was and it was _awful_! This was not the flirtatious first date he'd hoped for when he got up that morning!

But then he felt salvation.

A warm arm wrapped around his shoulder and pulled him back a step, and before Inigo reached up and covered his face with his hands he caught a glimpse of Xander. He would have known it was Xander anyway. He pulled Inigo close to his side, so close that their bodies touched, and thank goodness he put at least two feet between him and the other people. It was both mortifying and also warm. Xander had never touched him before. It was... incredible. There was static behind it, warmth and comfort. Ease. He felt like he could relax, he felt like he was  _safe_.

He knew that was supposed to happen. One of the unexplained mysteries of soulmates was the instantaneous comfort they could bring each other with the most innocent touch. It made Inigo want to melt, made him want to sag in his arms, but he did his best to stay on his own feet. Xander waited only a second before he chuckled. “Thank you, Camilla, but I imagine your doting is only making it worse.”

Inigo was in a daze for the next few minutes. Xander introduced him to his siblings properly. Camilla, the eldest sister. Leo, his younger brother, and Leo's son Forrest (no mention of his mother, interestingly enough.) It turned out that the little girl in the pink dress was actually a boy. Inigo was... far from surprised. By that point in his day they could have told him anything and he would have taken it in stride, if only because his nose and been in Camilla's breasts moments before and really his brain hadn't caught up with him yet. It was still trapped in her bosom. Xander introduced Niles as Leo's friend, and as something of a brother too. He grew up with them, in that house. He was the 'leech' apparently, but Inigo was fairly certain it was not meant to be an insult anymore. He thought perhaps it had been a joke Xander had attempted to make. Maybe they were both horrible at making jokes.

The other little girl was Corrin's daughter, Sophie, and the man with the silver hair, Silas... well he approached Inigo with a small glass that contained ice and something that looked golden and strong. He extended it to Inigo and gods knew he thought he needed it, in spite of his low tolerance. He at least needed a swig of it. He took it with a quiet thank you, and the man chuckled.

“I married into this family. I know that look of horror on your face. It was on mine, too, once. They all mean well, I promise! Of course, a little brandy can't hurt.”

Xander kept his arm around Inigo's shoulder for the rest of the afternoon, and Inigo thought that was more comforting than the sip of expensive brandy would ever be. He didn't need to be babysat by any means. He was sure that if Xander left his side now he would be able to stand on his own feet, and would be able to pretend he hadn't just suffered through hell. He was... glad he stayed. He liked the comfort, he liked the embrace. He still thought Xander likely gave excellent hugs. He had to, because just this sideways embrace was Inigo's favorite feeling in the world. Bravely he leaned into Xander's embrace, thought he loved the smell of his cologne, and he thought perhaps this date hadn't gone so horribly after all, considering he ended up there....but it had still been _pretty awful_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please don't be mad i wrote another soulmate au but at the same time i love soulmates so TRY AND STOP ME.


	2. 2. October

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Month Xander Turned 27.

_October_

 

The leaves were falling down left and right come October. Autumn was always so short lived in the city. Nohr was known for harsh winters, and Inigo knew he needed to cherish the colors while they lasted, because the cold would no doubt sweep the autumn away before he knew it. Winter was of course the farthest from his favorite season, so Inigo was not looking forward to it.

The impending cold did not stop him from enjoying the pleasant fall. That particular Saturday he was walking with his soulmate towards a small cafe that served a variety of traditional teas and coffees. It was very popular as a to-go sort of place, but that was hardly the best part about it. The best part about it was the back of the store, where there were tables and a waitress or two and knickknacks and pieces of history relating to tea and coffee. It was where you could order from your seat and they would bring you your drink, and you could have a quiet and pleasant conversation with whoever you were with... and considering Inigo wished he could spend every second of his day with Xander, he was more than happy to have a conversation with him. He was having a great time getting to know him better. 

Xander always dressed essentially the same. On days they met when he was through at work he wore a suit and tie. On days when they met otherwise he often still wore slacks and a nicer shirt, although less formal. Inigo wondered... if he even owned a pair of jeans. Maybe they didn't make jeans that long, he joked to himself. Entirely seriously, though, he thought Xander was overworked. He thought so because he never had free time in the week. Only on his days off. He worked from early morning and "supposedly" was through at five thirty, but Inigo had only known him a month and already knew that to be a lie. There would be no 'let's get dinner after work' sorts of dates. Xander often didn't leave that building until eight or nine in the evening, and Elise had already complained to Inigo once that even when he did come home he often brought work home with him.

Inigo was still getting used to the idea of having a soulmate, and he was sure Xander was too. What did it mean? Obviously it meant that they were destined to stand beside each other, but that was never a guarantee that they would get along right away. He considered himself lucky, really. He was very glad that Xander had been open to a relationship... even if they had to take things sort of slow to cope with his job. Honestly Inigo was surprised, in retrospect, that Xander even considered himself to have enough time to date. Inigo almost felt bad for taking up more of the limited time he had for his family.

Being Xander's soulmate was new to him, and honestly he wasn't even sure what to make of it. It felt strange not to be rejected by someone... but Xander had yet to send him away. He took an interest in what Inigo had to say, he treated him like he respected him... and Inigo imagined it took a great deal to earn Xander's trust, otherwise. It was like some sort of magic cast over him, magic that told Xander that Inigo was right for him. Wouldn't it be incredible? Inigo thought magic had taken over _him_ to say the least. He was more than a little infatuated with his soulmate, after all.

 Perhaps the same magic that made Xander like Inigo in spite of what he thought was an endless list of flaws was what made Inigo respond so casually to the question he was presented with. “Do I want to take...dance classes?”

He thought if anyone else in the world had presented him with the question he may have been more flustered. What about Inigo made Xander think he needed to take _classes_ to dance? But he wasn't offended, not really. Not when Xander reached out and caught his hand while they walked. His brain could only focus on one thing at a time clearly, and when Xander did that Inigo was too busy looking down at the way their fingers were woven together  to be even remotely bothered by the dance classes. He was glad he hadn't really asked any further anyway, because Xander explained himself seconds later. 

“I don't have very much knowledge on the subject,” Xander admitted this calmly, like he had no idea Inigo was halfway offended and halfway flustered. He kept his chin high when he walked. He carried himself with excellent posture, all the time. Inigo turned his attention away from their hands and instead looked upon his face. Why did his face always have a hint of stress to it? Inigo wished he could take that away from him. He had been through far more stress in his own life than any one human needed, he thought he could carry Xander through his own with a smile. Inigo was numb to real stress at this point in his life. “I recall that you're shy about dancing in front of others when you don't know the steps, but I'd hoped dancing with a partner may be different. Especially... if said partner was so inexperienced he made you look professional by comparison.”

 _Oh_. Xander meant together--that they should take dance classes together. Xander wanted to learn to dance  _with_ Inigo. He wasn't wrong, either, it would be different than practicing in front of others. Inigo was very shy about his mother's dance, but he otherwise loved to dance any dance, really. He nodded his head yes, quickly, because he truly did like this idea. “I don't have much experience in ballroom dancing, but I would love to learn with you.” He decided. Sharing his passion for dancing with someone who appreciated it was exciting, and that was part of why he agreed... but Inigo could already imagine himself dancing with Xander, could already imagine their hands and bodies and feet moving together. He... really loved that part, too.

“Oh? I would have thought you knew most common dances. Didn't you say you went to school for dance?"

“Well I learned a few traditional dances in school, but my focus was in ballet. I wanted to...” He trailed off. He wanted to be like his mother, beautiful and strong. He wanted to stand in the lights in front of huge audiences who came far and wide to see him, to see his talent. Of course, no amount of school or practice really mattered, he thought. He was not his mother. He was a yoga instructor at a franchise gym. He smiled at the ground while they walked, and cleared his throat. “I wanted to learn to dance like my mother.”

His heart leaped into his throat when he felt Xander squeeze his hand, and he felt more than saw a concerned glance. It felt nice, to have someone worry over something so simple as missing his mother. It felt nice knowing that Xander cared. It wasn't as though his life was void of compassion by any means, but... This was all fresh and new. “Your mother did ballet?”

“Her whole life.” Inigo answered. “She was beautiful, and very talented. She performed in other countries, and in the most famous stages and opera houses here. She was incredible, really, I'll have to find a recording of one of her performances for you, one day.”

Xander nodded his head. Inigo wished he had the confidence to tell Xander more about Olivia beyond her dancing. She was so wonderful, the best mother he could have ever asked for. Inigo thought she would have liked the blonde, if only because of how deeply Inigo cared for him already. She would have liked that he made Inigo feel confident, even when he would normally be shy. But talking about his mother was... hard. He had a thousand good memories of her to cover up the one horrible memory, but... when he spoke more than a few words out loud, they always caught in his throat. He always remembered that moment, the glassy look in her eyes, the blood...

He cleared his throat and squeezed Xander's hand in return. He wanted to come up with an excuse to change the subject. Somehow fate must have heard his prayers, because the subject changed immediately to Niles.

Niles was exiting the cafe that they were just about to enter. Inigo had only met him fewer times than he could count on one hand in the weeks he had known Xander, but he would easily recognize him anywhere. He had a very distinct appearance. His eyes, especially. One of his eyes, Inigo had learned, was blind. Both of his eyes were a beautiful blue, the sort of blue that poets wrote about, but the eye that was blind was much lighter by comparison. Dull, to some extent, but haunting in a way. Inigo thought it was very pretty to look at, although he imagined there were people in the world who thought it was off putting.

At first Niles said “Oh, excuse me,” like he thought he was speaking to any stranger. Then he recognized Inigo and Xander and a smile spread over his lips. Niles had a smile like the devil himself. It was both wicked and playful Inigo was a little intimidated by it the moment it hit his lips. “Well if it isn't Xander and his toilet prince! And you're holding hands. How sweet.”

Inigo felt Xander's grip on his hand loosen somewhat... and that was all the motivation he needed to pull his hand away, anxiously, to instead cross his arms. What if he was embarrassing Xander? He did not want to embarrass Xander. He shouldn't have been so selfish to hold his hand for that long, he supposed. Inigo tried to clear his throat, about to say anything really, but Xander interrupted first.

“Do not call him that. I won't say it again Niles.” Xander spoke with so much authority. He spoke like he was in charge of the man in question. He spoke not like he was speaking to his younger brother (which Inigo now knew Niles was, to some extent, similarly to the way that Inigo was Owain or Brady's brother), but he spoke like he worked for him, like he was scolding an employee. Inigo thought so, at least. Then again, Inigo thought Xander sounded like he was at work constantly.

Niles didn't work for Xander, but he did have a job. A job and a place to live, and he was better off than Inigo was so he must have been a successful adult. Inigo had been very surprised to learn that the man who had done nothing but poke fun at him and make lewd comments was actually a social worker. Not just any social worker, but he worked in child protective services. Inigo would never complain about him working that job, though. He had absolutely no doubt in his mind that Niles was of strong body and strong mind, and he was very capable of protecting someone. Inigo knew little about Niles' past yet, but he knew that he was an orphan. Inigo had almost been an orphan, too. He was, to some extent. Niles worked to protect children who needed love and families most. Inigo respected that.

He just often had trouble respecting Niles as a whole. Niles was obviously in the middle of his shift then, actually, because he was wearing a nice shirt, tucked in, and a jacket. He also had a gun strapped to his hip, but it wasn't very prominent. It was a small hand gun, and it was nearly covered by the blazer. Inigo imagined it was for emergencies. He also imagined it was loaded. Either way he swallowed uncomfortably upon seeing it. He wasn't very comfortable around guns. He supposed he never had been.

“If you insist.” Niles chuckled. He had coffee in his hand, and he had a laptop or briefcase, one or the other, strapped over his shoulder. He was busy. It was clear this had only been a short stop for him. “It physically _hurts_ me that I can't stay here to tease you further, but I've got a house to visit, anyway. Have fun on your date, you little lovebirds.”

As Niles walked away Inigo thought he was often humiliated when he took people out for tea, but it wasn't often that he was embarrassed before the date began, and even less often because he was on a _successful_ date. He cleared his throat and (boldly?) reached out for Xander's hand again, to pull him inside the building and find a seat and order some tea and cakes. He wished he hadn't let go of Xander's hand to start with. 

They were seated far in the back of the shop and that was just where Inigo wanted to be, because it was far from the door that jingled with ever customer entering or exiting, and it was by a tinted window that allowed him to look out and people watch without people staring back in at him. He was paying for this outing (he did his best to pay, or at least offer to, frequently), and so he took the liberty of ordering the cakes for them, and tea he knew would compliment them. This was familiar to him because he came here often enough with previous dates. He knew what he was doing.

Uncomfortable silence hung over them longer than expected. Inigo assumed Xander would have had something to say about the cafe, the decor, or even Niles... but he said nothing. He just seemed bothered. Inigo wished he could have just read his mind, so he didn't have to ask, but he did anyway. “You're frowning more than usual.”

Ah, but that brought back a flicker of a smile. Inigo smiled to match it, when Xander countered him to ask, “Do I frown all the time?”

“A hard habit to break, but I hope I can cure it for you. I don't mean to brag but I can turn nearly any frown upside down; it's something of a talent of mine. But... by the by...Did I do something wrong? You're awfully quiet.” Inigo asked, and he noticed Xander drum his fingers on the table.

“Of course not." Xander answered, and Inigo was immediately relieved he hadn't messed up the date before it began. "I was only worried that Niles may have bothered you.” Xander paused when a waitress placed the little cakes in front of them, but when she left he added, “May I make a confession?”

“Shall I alert the media?” Inigo teased, but he shook his head slowly. “Please, tell me anything. I am remarkable at keeping secrets.” Xander looked at him like he thought that was a suspicious thing to say. Maybe it was. Inigo had his fair share of secrets, though, and if he could keep so many of his own adding one of Xander's to the list would be effortless. Xander let out a quiet sigh.

“This may sound... pathetic, for lack of a better word." Inigo couldn't have imagined anything Xander was going to say would sound pathetic. He was the most successful person that Inigo knew personally. "I have never pursued a romantic relationship with anyone, before. You are my first...” Xander hesitated, and Inigo waited only semi patiently for him to add the word “...boyfriend.” He was still surprised when the word came out of his mouth even if he he'd been expecting it.

 _He called me his boyfriend I'm going to die._ “Th-That's far from pathetic! I promise you, Xander, there are things _far worse_.”

Xander looked like he was blushing again. This time there honestly was some pink to his face, and he turned his head just slightly to the side and focused on the grain of the table, it seemed. He took in a deep breath and exhaled it completely before he said “I never had the time, you see. I just considered romance to be unnecessary and underwhelming. I was surprised, when we met, how quickly you changed my opinion on the subject."

Inigo honestly couldn't even move. He had a fork in his hand but instead of trying to eat the cake with it he just twisted it between his fingers. Maybe this was the best day of his life? Xander was being so open with him, it was very... sweet. It was sweet of him to imply that Inigo had somehow made him want to find love (in not so many words). It was sweet of him to go out of his way to make time for his  _boyfriend_. 

“What... is it that you feel is worse?” Xander asked, and Inigo realized he must have been trying to take the subject off of himself. That was alright, Inigo supposed. He was not a stranger to being flustered and trying to shift attention off of himself. Xander had shared something he found to be embarrassing about himself, and so Inigo thought he could do the same to even the playing field.

“Well at least you saved yourself for your soulmate. There is something very traditional and romantic about that detail, Xander. I must have flirted with every woman in this city, and I have been rejected by every one. What is truly pathetic is how frequently I have been told 'no'.” He hesitated when he waited for Xander's response. He half worried that Xander would be disappointed that Inigo was such a flirt, but... he smiled, instead, like he truly did find amusement in the subject.

Inigo would have continued making jokes at his own expense, but there was something else he thought he needed to ask Xander. Something that had been weighing on Inigo for some time, now. “Um... May I ask you a question?”

“Anything at all.”

“Why does...That is to say, what...” Inigo bit his lip. This was hard. He just didn't understand it, was all. It was an innocent enough question, he thought. “Why does Niles call me 'toilet boy'? Elise too, she once mentioned a bathroom...”

The tiny pink dusting across Xander's cheeks earlier had been endearing and sweet. The blush of a man who was confessing a secret. The blotchy red that came over Xander after Inigo asked that question was unbecoming and sort of scary. He looked like he was choking or something. Inigo had not expected it from someone as composed as Xander, and he actually had to cover his mouth to hide the smile that formed. He had clearly asked the wrong question.

“I am so sorry.” Xander spoke softly, almost in a whisper. Inigo strained to hear him, focused on his reaction to the question. Watched him shift to put his elbow on the table (unexpected, considering his table manners at their previous dates) and then to hide his face somewhat behind his hand. He rested his head in it, covered his nose and mouth with it. “That is my fault.”

“You... told them to call me 'toilet boy'..?” Inigo dipped his head to the side slightly but a wide smile had spread over his face. He was curious and confused, of course, but this sight... this was very much unexpected, but a happy sight. This was a man who had torn down all the walls he normally kept himself sealed within, and it was cute. Or perhaps just overwhelmingly attractive. “Be careful now, if you keep turning colors like that someone may mistake you for a strawberry.”

He laughed. Inigo's heart did a little back flip. It was so short, just a tiny laugh, but it was real. Xander was capable of true laughter beyond trained chuckles. “My soulmate's marking is on my leg, behind my knee. Do you recall what you said to me when we met?”

No. Inigo's smile faltered and he shook his head left and right. He had no idea what he had said to Xander upon their meeting. Really he had tried to block that memory out of his mind. All he knew was what Xander said to him, along with a blurry rush that he knew contained his ungraceful escape and Elise's giggles. “I... I can't say that I remember.”

Xander sighed. “Since we were children, Niles and Leo and Camilla, and of course Elise as well, to an extent, have teased me about the words on my leg. You said to me ' _Don't look at me! Did you see anything?'_ when we met.”

Yes, now that Inigo heard it out loud, he supposed he did say that. Screamed it, really, with an ungraceful yelp at the beginning. His confusion was beginning to subside... he had a better idea of what the joke was, now. “Oh no...”

“You can imagine the theories that my siblings shared of what that meant. They came up with hundreds of ideas, but one day Camilla speculated that I might walk in on my soulmate in the restroom, and...”

“...And so you thought you were going to meet me on a toilet. Very funny. I'm sure that joke stayed with you for years.” Inigo understood now, at least. He understood why Elise was glad he hadn't met him on a toilet. He understood why Niles said he was a 'toilet boy'. He didn't  _appreciate it_ any, of course, but he understood. Xander had calmed down in his blush, he regained his composure quicker than Inigo ever had. 

“More than you might think. They thought it was a joke, but with a phrase like that it was hard not to entertain the idea. It made visits to public restrooms very... nerve-wracking, to say the least. But please, do not let their jokes bother you. Obviously the circumstances of our meeting had nothing to do with a _toilet_.”

“Is that why...” Inigo hesitated, but with his sudden realization he couldn't contain his quiet laugh. Xander looked confused, and who could blame him, but it was alright. Inigo finished his thought quickly enough. “Is that why you said ' _Oh, thank God_ '? Because I wasn't on a toilet?” Years and years of wondering what it was for. Would he save them, catch them, find their wallet... and it came down to this?

“...”

“Thank god he's not on a toilet. That was how we met.” Inigo grinned. “I'm going to remember this for the rest of my life.”

 

…

 

Inigo had never truly dressed up nice for Xander before that day. He rarely dressed up at all. He lived in jeans and clingy yoga pants with shorts because that was the sort of life he lived. A casual one. The nicest thing he ever wore was his jacket, and really it was just a zipper hoodie. Inigo was rarely spotted without a jacket, though, because he was always cold. Even in the summer months he got chilled easily.

He dressed up nice for their dancing class, though. The class was small, with only three or four couples in total, or at least that was what Xander had said it would be. It seemed simple enough. They were going to learn a traditional waltz. Inigo was sure he had learned something similar in class once, he was sure this would be more of a refresher course, but he wanted to go into it with an open mind because he wanted to do this. He loved dancing. He loved that his soulmate appreciated dancing. He wanted to dance with Xander and have an excuse to put his hand on his broad shoulders or his waist.

Maybe, Inigo thought, his developing feelings for his soulmate were unhealthy. Xander always seemed so composed, after all. Inigo didn't want to chase him off by being too forward... but his heart kept telling him that Xander was his forever. Xander was right for him, his soulmate. He wasn't going to scare him off.

He still felt a little nervous to dress up for Xander. He felt like he was going to be judged on how he looked. He didn't know if he was really the definition of 'cleaning up well' because no matter what he did his hair was still pink and that would always be just a little strange on a male. He came by it naturally from his mother, and... he couldn't dye it. Never, he never would. He loved her too much to hide the few things he had left of her. He'd earned a little teasing in his life for the feminine shade, but honestly he was never bothered by it. His aunts said it only made him more attractive.

He was a little more comfortable with sitting in Xander's car by the time they went dancing that first time. He was fairly convinced he wouldn't dirty it just by existing, that was. He had been waiting under the awning of the apartment building when Xander's car pulled up, and he didn't waste any time to run down the stairs and get in. It was raining just a little, (obviously the convertible's hood was up) and he didn't want to start the evening off soaked with rain water. “If we hurry I think we might beat the rain.” Beat the downpour, that was, because the rain had only just begun. He said that when he sat down, but not a moment after he'd put on the seat belt he combed his fingers through his hair to fix the few strands that had been upset by the drizzle. Just to clear away the few drops that had landed there. He hesitated when he realized that the car not moving, and a quick glance to the side told him he was being examined. Stared at even.

 _Oh no_.

Did he not look good enough? He was wearing slacks and a button down shirt, he was dressed acceptably! He'd met the dress code requirements! His hair couldn't have become such a mess just in a sprinkle that he deserved that look. He looked good. He _knew_ he looked good. His clothes fit his form well, the shade of blue that the shirt was never failed to bring out his dark eyes, he'd asked Owain fifty times if he looked alright... he had to be fine. He had to look good.

“I-I... um. Xander..? Is there something on my face..?” Maybe there was. Maybe somehow in his five second journey in the rain some mud had gotten on his face? He was honestly half tempted to pull down the mirror and look...But instead of any of that, Xander shook his head no and put the car in gear.

“I'm sorry to have stared.” He said, and in almost a whisper he added the words “You look very nice, tonight.”

 _Oh._ He was staring at him because _he_ thought he looked good. That option hadn't really passed through Inigo's mind before that moment, but now that it was in place a swell of _overwhelming_ pride surged through him. Confidence, too, he thought. Xander thought he looked good. Color the evening a success, because that was all he'd really hoped for and more. “Well I'd hoped to impress my date, you see. He's very handsome, I hardly compare.”

He very specifically liked the way that Xander's lips curled up in the corners. The hint of a smile for the compliment he paid that was so obviously directed at him. It was followed up with something of a frown, though, and that made Inigo's confidence falter. “Do you always put yourself down?”

 _Yes_. His whole life, he had done it, but he'd never been called out on it before. The word caught in his throat and so he squeaked and said nothing at all. Xander tilted his head to look at him briefly, carefully, caught the expression on his face and stared him down with his beautiful eyes. 

“It may seem overly flirtatious of me to say, Inigo, but please... You are beautiful. I hope you know that.”

This was some sort of angel masquerading as man and someday Inigo would surely prove it, because he couldn't imagine that any human could make his skin tingle like that with a simple compliment. But it wasn't simple, not really. It was life altering. It was his _soulmate_ , the man he was meant to be with... and he was telling him that he thought he was beautiful. His forever thought he was beautiful, and for the first time Inigo entertained the idea that Xander didn't feel like he'd gotten the short end of a stick.

“Thank you.”

 

…

 

Inigo had been asked more than once in his life if he was in a romantic relationship with Owain and he always was a little jarred by the question. Owain was, of course, like a brother to him. An annoying and horrible brother and also a beloved and cherished brother. As his best friend he knew all there was to know about Inigo, and he was trusted with that information.

More importantly, Inigo had spent the better part of his life being cautious that Owain was always safe. It only took one horrible, terrifying encounter to convince him that Owain was too much of a 'hero' for his own good. Inigo had been looking out for him his whole life... and Owain, in return, had looked out for him too.

He supposed though, in moments like the present, he understood why people asked him that question. If only because he was sitting on the sofa and watching the buzzing blur of commercials on the television, and ankles were crossed in Owain's lap, where the blonde easily (and by now without being asked) rubbed away the soreness in his feet and calves. That was commonplace. That was years of Inigo pushing himself too hard to be better at dancing, pushing himself too hard to be like his mother, and years of Owain knowing how much pain he was in. That was years and years of friendship and family.

And, in that particular moment, it was Inigo begging for help. “I don't know what to get him.” He said it with some amount of desperation in his voice. The commercials on the television hadn't been helpful either, and he only had limited time left to decide.

“On this, the day of his birth? What sort of boyfriend are you?!” Owain laughed at him, but Inigo actually did feel like a bad boyfriend. He didn't know Xander well enough to get him a gift—it was _awful_. Owain must have picked up on it, because he stopped what he'd been doing to shove Inigo's legs off of him. He pulled his own legs onto the sofa beneath him, and put on his best 'thinking' face. “Kidding, kidding! Mom says the best gifts are practical. Maybe he needs something?”

“He's rich, Owain. He no doubt buys anything he needs and then has it plated in gold.” Well maybe not  _that_ rich, but it got his point across. He couldn't buy him something practical because he had everything he needed, and he couldn't buy him anything else because it would seem lackluster... wouldn't it?

“Mom and Ma have a lot of money too, and you never have trouble shopping for them.” Owain said. Inigo supposed that was true, but those were women who raised him for half his life. He knew them like he knew himself. He knew their favorite flowers and their favorite colors and foods and movies. They were _easy_ to shop for, wealth or not.

Xander was an enigma. “It can't be something I buy, or at least not a traditional gift... I couldn't afford to buy him anything spectacular enough anyway.”

“I'm sure he would love anything his beloved soulmate picked out.” Owain grinned at him and Inigo rolled his eyes.

If only it was that simple! He would have hoped as his _soulmate_ , Inigo would have had more intuition on what the perfect gift would be. But he just couldn't pin it down. Sure, Xander worked too hard but there was little Inigo could offer by means of relaxing him or getting him to stay put. He had such limited free time that it would have been hard to get him tickets to an event (and even then what event?) and he was just... content. Xander seemed content.

Well, no. Xander put on a content mask. Inigo had seen through it a time or two. He was obviously working at a job that caused him infinite levels of stress, and he was obviously desperately trying to balance his family in his limited free time....and now he was also trying to juggle Inigo, too. “I don't want to disappoint him, is all.” Inigo murmured. Owain opened his mouth but before he could speak Inigo's phone buzzed. A number he didn't recognize texted him, but the message made everything clear.

It read ' _Inigo come over quick! I need help decorating for Xander's surprise party! Pretty please?_ '

Honestly Inigo hadn't even known that there was a party. He didn't know a thing about it, but he knew he had to go help Elise with the preparations. He couldn't tell her no, and he really didn't want to. It was scary to know that he had run out of time, though. He was going to Xander's house and he was going to have no gift for him at all... and that was a twisted, nauseous feeling.

 

…

 

When the door opened it was Leo who answered it. He had his phone up to his ear and he was humming in agreement with whomever he was speaking to. Leo didn't work with Xander at their father's company. He owned his own business, separate from Garon entirely. Xander told him about it once, bragged about it like he was very proud of Leo. It was an accounting firm. He was very successful, but also often busy, too, it seemed.

Clearly not as busy as Xander, however, because he could be at his brother's house to prepare for the party. Leo covered the microphone on the phone with his fingertips for a second to mouth the word 'sorry' at Inigo and to shrug when he walked away to complete his call. Inigo didn't mind, not really. Honestly even if he had cared he wouldn't have had the time to fuss over it, because a tiny hand slid into his a moment later and he turned his attention down to Forrest, who offered a tiny smile and led the way to the next room.

Forrest, he had learned, was four. He was Leo's son, but his mother wasn't in the picture. His mother also was not Leo's soulmate, but the result of a mystery that Inigo was slowly piecing together. He was fairly certain it was an accident resulting from a one night stand and [possibly] drinking too much. At any rate Forrest was a darling child, and everyone loved him. He had long curls that were similar to his aunt Elise and he wore sweet, often fluffy dresses. That day he was wearing a jean skirt and a pink blouse, which Inigo thought was the most 'casual' thing he'd ever seen Forrest in. Leo didn't seem to have a problem with the way Forrest wore those clothes instead of dressing more like a stereotypical male, but... Inigo imagined it was embarrassing to explain, now and then. He certainly seemed flustered when he tried to explain it to Inigo, the day they met.

Leo had a soulmate. They were out there somewhere. Inigo had seen the writing on his hand, scrawled on his palm in chicken scratch letters. He'd never read it personally, but Xander told him that it said something to the effect of their last ponytail holder breaking. It was after Xander told him that, that Inigo noticed Leo wore a ponytail holder on his wrist at all times. That was sweet.

Forrest led Inigo to an oversized dining room. Already there were balloons everywhere. Some on the floor filled with air, others floating near the ceiling with helium and spiraled ribbons attached to them. There was all sorts of things on the table. A punch bowl (which remained empty, at the moment) and matching cups, a variety of candies and cookies, and off to the side a small stack of gifts.

Inigo twisted his ring on his finger while he looked them over. They were all fairly small. Quality over quantity he supposed. Any gift for Xander had to be of good quality and taste... right? Inigo felt horrible for not having one. He felt stupid for not _knowing_ what to get him.

Elise was standing to the side of him on a step-ladder. She was on the top rung of it, on the tips of her toes with such fine form that he thought she could have been an dancer herself. She had about fifty streamers in her hands of all sorts of colors, and a roll of masking tape in her mouth, and she was clearly struggling to hang them. Inigo had almost formed the words to say hello to her when she started to stumble. Sure enough she lost her balance and wobbled in place momentarily before she fell from the ladder.

Inigo thought if he had arrived a second later she would have fallen face first into the floor tiles, but she didn't. She landed safely in his arms, and it was almost like a man saving a damsel in a movie. He was quite proud of himself for catching her, and she was light as a feather honestly, so it was hardly a strain. Elise lit up when she realized what happened, when she saw his face, and she threw her arms around his shoulders from her princess position. "Inigo! You made it! I'm so happy! Xander is going to be so excited you're here!" 

“Please—Elise. Let me hang those for you.” Inigo tried, because he couldn't really respond to the comment about Xander being happy. How could he? He had no idea if that would be true. He was just anxious about the present situation. He was, however, taller than she was. She was one of the few people in that family he _could_ claim to be taller than. It would be much easier for him to hang the streamers for her. He set the teenager down on her feet and asked “When did you decide to throw a surprise party?”

“Oh, we do it every year. I'm sorry I forgot to invite you earlier, but you're here now, right?” Elise giggled out the answer while Inigo climbed up onto the step-ladder. Once he was in place she passed him the tape, and then passed him streamers to hang. The work would go quickly as a team like that, he supposed. Forrest stood beside Elise and tore more of the crepe paper into strips and strands. It took a second for Elise's words to sink in, and then Inigo found himself asking her the obvious question.

“Is it truly a surprise party if you do it every year? I think that's more of a _regular_ party.” Elise pouted at him like he had committed a crime, and Inigo found himself chuckling at her somewhat expected response. She truly was a sweet girl, he thought this whole family was lucky to have someone as enthusiastic as she was. He formed the words to tease her easily enough. “What? Was I thinking out loud?”

“Hey! It's a surprise party even if we do it every year! Besides, he'll be extra surprised that _you're_ here! That will make him really happy!”

“Ah, well,” Inigo blushed. He pushed a piece of tape against the crepe paper to hold it in place, and he found that he had honestly no way of responding to that. What was he supposed to say? Would he really be a pleasant surprise? He supposed it gave him the opportunity to ask a question pertaining to his horrible situation. “Er... Say, Elise, what did you get Xander for his birthday?”

“Oh that's easy! Ties. I get him ties every year. Usually some nice ones but also a few cute patterns! This year I got him one that has a whole bunch of rubber ducks on it! Also one with a blue pattern. He wears them every day for work, so he goes through a lot of them. Sometimes he even wears the funny patterns to work! I can't wait to see if he wears the ducky tie to his office.”

Ties. That was a great gift, Inigo thought. He did wear ties every day, and he probably loved to humor his sister. If there was one thing Xander obviously cared about, it was his siblings. Inigo chewed on the inside of his cheek. Maybe Elise would have a good suggestion for him? He should ask, he thought. There was no harm in trying. “Do you...”

“Oh! I forgot the banner! I made it out of glitter this year, it looks _great_! I'll be right back!” Elise practically shouted the words, and she ran off and left Inigo alone with Forrest. He wondered if she was always like that—Forrest seemed to have a calmer head on his shoulders and he was only four. Inigo sighed and pushed another piece of tape into place.

“I made him a card.” Forrest said, although Inigo hadn't asked him what he'd gotten Xander. He smiled and turned, only to see that Forrest had taken up Elise's spot and was holding out more streamers for him. He took the paper from the boy and thought he was _adorable_. Inigo had never really considered if he wanted kids one day (although he had more than once thought he would be a horrible father in passing) but if he ever did have a child he hoped they would be as considerate as Forrest. Or perhaps as cute. 

“Did you now? What does it look like?”

“It's blue, and it has a picture of the two of us together. I drew it! It's in an envelope already, but when he opens it you can see, okay?”

“I think I would love that, Forrest.” Inigo nodded his head and then raised it back up to look at the streamers again. Halfway there he noticed Leo was standing in front of him and he nearly had a heart attack right there. He didn't lose his balance, luckily, but he certainly did flinch at the sudden sight. “Oh—Leo. Hello.”

“What are you two up to in here?” He asked, as if he couldn't see it, as if he couldn't tell they were decorating. Inigo thought Leo should have been the one hanging streamers. He could probably do it without the use of the ladder--clearly a dangerous ladder considering Elise fell from it and Inigo nearly had. 

“Father! We're decorating for Uncle Xander's party, remember?” Forrest asked it so innocently, but also with some amount of sass. Were children allowed to be sassy? Did that happen? Forrest seemed entirely unhappy that his father forgot why they had come to visit. Leo certainly took advantage of that.

“His party? Oh, I must have forgot.” Inigo smiled at Leo's joke, meant to humor his son. Or maybe to annoy him. Forrest was more than baffled by it.

"You're very scatterbrained today, father."

Inigo actually had to fight not to outright laugh at that comment. Coming from a four year old boy no less! It was the funniest thing he'd thought he'd ever seen a child do. He reached up and taped up the last streamer, and shortly after he climbed down from the step-ladder. Leo addressed him instead of Forrest. “Inigo, I'm so sorry I was distracted when you arrived. I had no idea you'd be here today, but I'm glad you came by.”

Blush. Just a small one, not out of the ordinary for Inigo when he was complimented in one way or another. Why was everyone so glad he was there? “Well Elise asked me to, and I'm not sure I could have said no if I tried. I'm not intruding... am I? I can slip away before the party if you like, if it's more of a family affair.”

“No, no. Stay.” Leo shook his head and then he smiled at Inigo with eyes that were oh, so similar to his brother's. Inigo cracked under the stare and looked away, only to see Forrest gesture to the next part of the wall that needed streamers. He supposed he got the message, and he obeyed the child who was silently asking the favor of him and moved the step-ladder a few feet to the left. Leo said “I think your being here will be a pleasant surprise, for Xander. He's very fond of you, I've heard.”

“Th-Thank you.” Inigo pushed the words out in spite of the awkward implication that Leo had just put into his head. He'd  _heard_. Xander spoke fondly of Inigo to someone, and that someone gossiped it to Leo. It was embarrassing, to say the least... but it was also a good feeling. He wanted to be spoken of fondly. It was much better than being spoken of negatively. “I... do you mind if I ask you a silly question?”

Leo crossed his arms, but not in a way that was very closed off. He actually seemed sort of interested, like he wondered what Inigo could possibly have to ask him. “Hm? Go ahead.”

Inigo worried his question wasn't exciting enough when he asked “Did you get Xander a gift..? What did you get him?”

“Oh!” Leo chuckled and lowered his hands when Forrest handed him a new roll of streamers, still wrapped in plastic. He looked at it, and then looked up at the ceiling. He was clearly wondering why they needed _another roll_... but Inigo watched him shrug and open it anyway, before handing it back to Forrest. “ I try to get him something he can use more than once, like watches or cuff links, but this year I happened upon tickets to a performance in Cyrkensia. When we were just children our father used to take us there often. The dancers are incredible there, and the singers could probably stop a war if you asked me. Once things got serious at his company, father stopped taking those trips. I think Xander will love it—he always looked forward to those trips.”

Leo didn't have to tell Inigo twice about the beautiful talent of Cyrkensia. His mother used to perform there often, and he'd only dreamed of being good enough to dance there himself. He thought that was an _incredible_ gift to give someone. Those tickets were often expensive and rarely lasted long. Performances always sold out. “Wow, he's sure to love that.” Inigo said softly. Honestly he wondered if, once Xander's mind was refreshed on how talented those dancers were, he might realize how sub-par Inigo's talent was.

It was hard to see the value in a glass bead when it was compared to a diamond.

“I just hope he accepts it, instead of making excuses to go to work anyway. He works too hard.” Leo said. “But you didn't hear that from me. Forrest, come on. You need to change clothes before the party, you've got marker all over you.”

“Oh... alright.” Forrest looked down at himself and didn't argue. He had great taste in dresses, Inigo thought, he would surely pick out something nice. He reached out and took the last streamers from Forrest and the boy left with his father to change into something else. Inigo thought he heard him ask Leo if he could wear the 'one with the bow'.

“Have we left you to decorate all alone?”

“Gah!” That time Inigo _did_ nearly fall from the ladder, but luckily he was able to catch his balance. He was through with the ladder anyway, by then, and so he climbed down before he turned to catch a glimpse of Camilla. The first thing (he hated to admit) that he noticed was she was wearing a revealing shirt, yet again. He just said a tiny prayer that his nose didn't end up in her breasts again. “Oh, Camilla, you scared me. You just missed Leo and Forrest, actually, I think they went to get ready for the party.”

She had a cart with her, like someone might deliver tea or snacks on. Like a _butler_ might deliver tea or snacks on, he thought. He had seen one or two of them around the house before. Butlers. Maids. They had people to keep up the mansion. From the cart she took a finely decorated cake that had three tiers. It was beautiful, covered in seamless fondant that was a deep, nearly purple shade of blue. Piped icing in a lighter blue formed beautiful trim. She placed the cake on a stand on the table, one that could be rotated around, and then she began to add some final decorations to it.

“Did you make that?” He asked, taking in the beautiful patterns along the tiers.

“Of course. What sort of sister would I be if I didn't make a cake for my big brother?”

“I had no idea you were so talented with cake decorating, is all.” Inigo spoke softly, but confidently, when he said “But I suppose it's only right for a beautiful woman to make such a beautiful cake.”

Camilla stopped her work with her piping bag and tilted her eyes up to him. She raised up just one of her perfectly manicured eyebrows and her face read something unpleasant. Inigo knew right away he'd made a mistake, but he wasn't entirely sure what it was until she said “Oh, darling. What do you imagine Xander might think if he knew you were flirting with me? He would be oh, so jealous.”

“O—Oh, I... I'm sorry, I was... I just...” Would she tell him that? He thought he might be turning pale. He didn't want her to be offended, or to tell Xander that... he'd only just meant to compliment her.

She must have seen the fear on his face because she chuckled quietly and shook her head. “I'm only just teasing, dear. I've seen and heard enough about you to know that you flirt with all the ladies.”

There it was again. This whole family was gossiping about Inigo. He was relieved, though, and so he forced a smile to replace his worry and tried to say just about anything. Nothing came out. He was just so worried that Camilla was judging him, and he just wanted Xander's siblings to like him, really. Did she think he was horrible for being a flirt? It was honestly a force of habit by that time in his life. He saw nothing wrong with complimenting someone if it was all purely innocent. It wasn't as if he thought he was going to stroll over and kiss Camilla. He hadn't even mustered the confidence to kiss her brother, yet.

“Really, dear, I think it is very sweet that you go out of your way to make women feel good about themselves. Niles often flirts too, you see, but his methods are sometimes less tasteful.”

“Right...” Inigo wished he drew more comfort from that, but he didn't. He didn't want to be grouped into the same category as Niles, by any means. He just sighed and asked Camilla his inevitable question. “If you don't mind my asking, what did you get for Xander's birthday?”

“Oh, I got him a nice, new pair of shoes for when he goes out dancing. Thanks to a certain someone he's been doing that quite a bit more, lately. He needs to be properly dressed for the occasion.” She smiled something almost devious at him. Inigo wondered if maybe she was more of a trouble maker than Niles was, deep down. At least Niles was up front about his devious ways. He thought he would blush for the next hour if he kept talking to Camilla.

He wasn't even sure what to say about the dancing. He enjoyed going out dancing with Xander, and they had only done it three times. It was slowly becoming a tradition for their Saturday nights, he supposed, but it wasn't as if they'd started going every night of the week. He liked the way Xander seemed to relax the longer they danced. Like he forgot about everyone else and all there was to the world was Inigo and the way they could sway together. It was like he was the most important thing. It was a good feeling.

“You're good for him, Inigo.” Camilla added those words, but she went back to decorating the cake. “When he speaks of you there is a light in his eyes that I thought died many years ago.” That did absolutely nothing to calm the growing blush Inigo was faced with, but luckily Camilla had one other thing to say. “Oh, goodness. I left the candles in the kitchen.”

Inigo hoped he would have a minute to himself when she stood up to fetch those candles, but he didn't. Elise came bounding back into the room with a big gasp and the banner she went to get ages before. He almost wanted to ask what took her so long, but she said “Xander is going to be home any minute! We've got to put this up quick!” She took the initiative to tug the step-ladder where she wanted it to go, but Inigo still chose to climb it for her again. After all, he hated the idea that she may get hurt. Especially on his watch. (Not that she was a child, but somehow he still felt he would be to blame.)

The front door opened, and Inigo could hear it from the dining room. For a split second his heart stopped. What if that was Xander? Inigo still had no idea what to get for him, what he might like. He didn't have to worry for long. Not a moment after the door opened Sophie came barreling into the room and into Elise's waiting arms. Elise span her around by her arms, and shortly after Silas and Corrin stepped into the room.

It seemed like everyone was sure Xander would arrive shortly, because they began putting away their supplies. Silas nodded in greeting to Inigo, but he was recruited by Camilla only seconds later to help her fill the punch bowl. Once the banner was in place Inigo stepped off of the ladder, and he folded it up and propped it against the wall so that no one might trip over it. He hardly even noticed when a maid came by and took it away from him, she was so quiet. He wished he'd noticed her, really. She was very cute.

Corrin smiled bright at Inigo, something contagious enough that he smiled back. He was very glad he met her, she had something about her that made her easy to talk to. She didn't really intimidate him the way that Xander's other siblings did. “Hello, again.” He said to her. She giggled. Really, did this whole family do that? It sounded just like Elise's laughter, too, and she clapped her hands together.

“You're here!” She said, and Inigo nodded his head. Yes, he was there. Barely. There was still time for him to run, he supposed. “I'm glad! I'm so glad things are going well between Xander and you!”

“Er—Why wouldn't they?” Not even to mind that she was part of the 'Inigo gossip', he thought that was an odd thing to say. Wasn't it? What sort of rumors were there about Inigo that he wasn't going to work out? Inigo tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket, and Corrin made a face that seemed almost sympathetic.

“He spends all his time at work is all, I don't mean anything by it. Just between us, that company is _killing him_.” She whispered. “I think a distraction like you... that might be best for him. That and a great party!”

Inigo would have liked to consider himself more than just a distraction, but he didn't argue her point. He couldn't, because he also felt the same. He thought Xander needed a distraction from work, he thought it all the time. He thought Xander was turning 27 that day, and he acted like he was in his forties. He thought Xander needed to act his age and do something crazy. Maybe a few somethings. He just wanted to make him happy, was that so much? He wanted to see that smile on his lips, see him with his walls down. He didn't want every word they spoke between them to be curt and precise. They deserved love. Both of them, they had earned it.

Xander also deserved a fantastic birthday gift, and that led Inigo to ask one more person. “Did you get Xander a gift?”

“Of course! We brought him some of his favorite wine. It's an old year, hard to come by, but we managed. It's so expensive! Why do you ask?”

“O-Oh! No reason, I...”

“Are you still not sure what to get him?”

“N-No, I...”

“Oh, Inigo! I think just being here for his birthday is more than enough. You don't have to get him a gift, you know.”

How did she know? Inigo clamped his mouth shut and tried not to turn too many shades of red. He hated this whole thing, now. Everyone kept saying that they thought Xander would be _so happy_ to see him... but he saw him at least once a week! It wasn't as if he was some long lost friend or a relative who had been gone for a long time. “I just...” He just wanted to get him something good. Something memorable. He wanted to do something Xander would cherish, like a silly tie or a set of tickets to a sentimental place, or thoughtful shoes. He wanted to get him something _good._

“Don't worry! I—Oh!” Corrin stopped mid-sentence and Inigo knew why. Xander was home. The door opened again and Silas and Camilla had only just rushed to put out the final touches. The room looked great! Elise rushed forward to stand in the front, no doubt to be the first to yell surprise. Inigo hardly noticed himself taking a few steps back, until he was backed into the table and couldn't slip further away.

Why was he so nervous? He hadn't done anything wrong. Xander came through the archway that led into the dinning room and right away Elise and Sophie and Forrest shouted _“Surprise!”_ at the tops of their lungs. It was followed by a cheer that came from the rest of the room, an echo to Elise. Xander didn't look surprised. Probably because he had a party like this thrown for him every year. Inigo wondered if he even _liked it?_ Surely he did. Who didn't enjoy a good party with their family? He looked _happy_. He smiled, and looked over his family, and he was part way through saying his quiet thank you when his eyes landed on Inigo.

Then he looked surprised. For a second, at least. Inigo felt his stare shift from surprise right into a warm smile though, and it was such a _happy smile_. Maybe, he thought, just being there would be enough? If he could earn a smile like that just for standing off to the side of a room, he had a fair chance.

Inigo didn't want to interrupt the party. He obviously spent time talking with Xander, but he didn't interrupt when other people came to speak to the birthday boy. Man. Tall, beautiful, golden birthday _man_. Just when Elise was starting to pull Xander over to his gifts, that was when Niles showed up. He was still in his work clothes too, which was sort of surprising. He said his apologies for being late. Inigo resisted the urge to ask what he got for Xander, but just barely.

Inigo was sort of surprised to see alcohol, but he supposed it shouldn't have shocked him too much. He was beginning to think that this family wasn't shy about drinking. Luckily the punch was spared from it—Elise, Forrest, and Sophie were free to drink it. Inigo drank punch too... because he just didn't much feel like ruining a perfectly good party with his horribly tolerance.

Inigo had only just picked up a cookie (Elise had baked _so many_!) and taken a small bite when he felt Xander's hand on his shoulder. He knew it was him, but he was still startled enough to whip around and face him. He chuckled and lowered the cookie away from his mouth. “Well hello again.”

“Come with me.”

Oh. Those words were somewhat demanding, almost urgent, and Inigo obeyed them without a second thought. He let Xander take his hand and guide him, having escaped from the party. He took him across the foyer, into one of the sitting rooms, and ducked behind the wall so that they wouldn't be seen right away.

 _Doors_ , Inigo thought _This is what doors are for. Why do they only have archways down here_?

“I wanted to thank you for being here, Inigo. I hadn't expected that, but it made me very... happy.” Xander spoke softly, and he smelled just a hair like wine. Not intoxicated by any definition of the word, but perhaps just enough to make it easy to be so candid? Inigo smiled at him, and it wasn't shy or forced. It was easy to smile for Xander.

“I'm the one who should be thanking you, for having me.” He spoke softly. He was happy. Xander, that was. So happy just to have Inigo in the room with him while he shared cake with his family. Was that really all it took? Was that the magic of a soulmate, able to bring comfort with presence? Inigo wished he could give Xander something more than just comfort.

He wished he could have picked out the stars from the sky, or that he could have plucked beautiful stones from the sea, but he was both incapable and out of time. Inigo had only known Xander for such a short time, but he already knew this man deserved the best in life. He already knew he was working so hard for everyone he loved. He deserved far more than Inigo had to offer. “May I...”

Xander's attention was entirely on him. There was no one else around to pay attention to anyway. Still, the heat flooding into Inigo's cheeks in that moment had nothing to do with being stared at, but instead related directly to his own poorly timed life choices. He looked down, casting his eyes away from Xander. “This is a bad idea.”

“What is it?” Xander put his hands on Inigo's shoulders, and there was no doubt he felt Inigo shudder when he did.

Inigo hesitated. “I didn't know what to do for your birthday, and...”

“There is no need to go out of your way, over me.”

“Don't interrupt.” Inigo blurted, and the look that crossed Xander's face was worth the comment, it was almost priceless. Certainly shocked. He wondered just how many people had ever said that to him, a man with such wealth and authority? “I mean... I want to. Go out of my way, that is, I just...”

He was just too short. Xander was waiting patiently, watching him and choosing not to interrupt (which was still somewhat amusing). Inigo was sure what he wanted, though. He knew what he had to offer, and he knew it started with bravery in the face of a man with gorgeous eyes the color of Merlot. It started with reaching out his hands and cautiously placing them on either side of Xander's face. It was new to touch him there. His fingertips tingled. Xander's lips parted just a hair, like he understood.

Inigo pulled very gently on Xander's face, knowing he would get the memo. He didn't make him lean all the way, of course. Inigo pushed himself up onto the platforms of his feet to kiss him, to kiss his soulmate for the first time. His eyes slid shut, but behind his eyelids he swore magic and lights danced in front of him. He'd kissed more than one person in his life, but never like this. Never such a kiss that made him _happy_ , never a kiss that truly did feature 'fireworks'.

Surprisingly enough Xander kissed him back. Inigo supposed he thought Xander might just be surprised, and then thank him awkwardly. He hardly expected him to press into the kiss. It was a pleasant surprise. The best surprise. He barely noticed when he was backed up into the wall, but he _did_ notice when Xander lifted one of his hands up to card through his hair. He squeaked (humiliating, really) when he felt Xander slide his tongue over his lower lip. He squeaked, but he still opened his mouth, he still kissed him.

Well, not really. He started this, he was the one who first kissed Xander, but it was more than clear now that Xander was kissing _Inigo_. He had very easily taken the reigns, like it was second nature. Blast him for being a good kisser by nature, really, because Inigo never wanted to stop. How long was it appropriate to date someone before you let them kiss you until you melted into a puddle?

But then Inigo heard two things in succession. He heard Niles click his tongue, and he heard Camilla hum. Xander and Inigo flew apart at lightning speeds—Inigo even knocked his head against the wall he'd been propped against in his efforts to escape. “I--”

Camilla laughed, quietly. “I'd wondered where you two wandered off to. Come on now, Niles, let's leave them be.”

Xander was remarkably silent, and Inigo saw that he had only a faint blush on his cheeks. Why was he... so good at that? Inigo wanted to know his secret. How did he keep such a strong facade up in the face of _total humiliation_? Niles snickered when he left with Camilla, and Inigo wondered if he would ever live this moment down. He hid his face behind his hands, red as an apple because he was hardly as good as Xander at hiding it, and he _whined_ “I am _so sorry_.”

To his surprise (and Xander seemed to be full of them, today) Xander chuckled quietly. “I see no reason to be sorry.”

“...You aren't embarrassed? I just... they saw...”

“Perhaps a little, I suppose, but I would hope it is a sight they may have to get used to.” Xander said it so effortlessly and Inigo's knees gave out for a second. A sight they would have to get used to. It was such a smooth way to say he wanted to kiss him again, _seamlessly_ worked into the conversation. Inigo felt he may have been out-flirted, and he hadn't even struck up a competition.

Xander reached out and took both of Inigo's hands, pulled them gently away from his face. Inigo didn't know what to say, or what to do, but when Xander leaned forward and placed another, gentle kiss on his forehead... well his fingers curled around Xander's hands. “We should get back to the party.”

This was the best birthday of his life and it wasn't even his.

 


	3. 3. November

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Month Inigo Remembered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for typos maybe??? I had a hard time editing because I kind of felt blah but here's hoping the typos aren't that bad

_November_

 

Xander said his family did this every year, fairly often. Traditionally they went in the winter months but the rink was open all year round. Inigo had lived in Nohr for a few years with Owain, and he couldn't remember ever going ice skating once. Probably because he was destined to fail at it. He had been horrible at roller skating his whole life, and he thought there was no way ice skating could be any easier.

The biggest difference, he realized upon arrival, was not the shape of the skates in his hand, but the temperature of the rink. It was much colder than he expected, and he understood now why Xander told him to bring a scarf. It was chilly, but between that and the jacket he figured he'd be alright. He certainly wasn't going to rain on the family-fun-parade by being a little cool.

Inigo normally went dancing with Xander on Saturday nights, but this evening they were skating with his whole family instead. By now Inigo thought he was comfortable enough with them not to be _too awkward_.

The ice skates were heavy when he carried them and still felt heavy once he laced them up around his feet. He wobbled when he walked forward to the low wall that surrounded the ice. Just high enough for him to comfortably lean his arms against and watch the others skate, he sort of wondered if he could get away with just watching?

It was just his fine luck that everyone in Xander's family was talented at skating. Inigo looked out over the ice and thought it was sort of awkwardly empty in there for a Saturday, only a handful of people outside of their group were even there. He knew they would be booming with business by the time December arrived, that was certainly the month for doing things like making snowmen and ice skating.

Forrest and Leo were easy to spot on the ice because even Forrest's winter coat was stylish. It wasn't too puffy, it belted around his middle and hung a little lower than that, puffing out around his skirt. He had a little pink beret to match it. Inigo wondered how much money Leo put into clothes for that boy. He was adorable to say the least. They moved past him in their lap around the rink, moving fairly slow. Leo had his hands wrapped around Forrest's, bent over enough to reach, and Inigo just barely heard him say “Ready?” each time they swerved around the curves of the rink. It was incredible how well he could skate backwards. Forrest picked up the actions quickly, and soon enough Leo was able to skate with only one hand in his.

Camilla was the most incredibly good looking woman that Inigo thought he would ever meet, really. She looked _so good_ that evening. She had thick tights and her own skates that were white and fur lined and came all the way up to her knees instead of her ankles. Her skirt and coat both matched, a pearly ivory that greatly contrasted the normal dark colors she wore.

Twice as remarkable as her beauty was that her breasts were actually put away for once. No skin showing below her furry scarf! Inigo thought it must have been an answered prayer. No matter how badly he embarrassed himself today there was no chance that his face would fall into her breasts. (Honestly it was both wonderful and awful when she did that to him, and it had happened on more than one occasion now. It turned out she did that to her entire family when she comforted them, like she thought her bosom had healing properties. Inigo supposed he should have been flattered she considered him family enough to nose dive into her cleavage.)

Camilla was skating very casually with Corrin. She had her arm looped into her sister's, and she was having a conversation with her. They laughed together, and Camilla covered her mouth with her fingertips, and Inigo wondered what she'd said to draw out those giggles.

“Waaah!” Inigo blinked his attention to the left and noticed Sophie fall ungracefully on her bottom again. She wasn't picking it up quite so quickly as Forrest, but Silas only chuckled at her and leaned down to scoop her up again. She took it in stride and with a smile, and Inigo had to commend her for that. Her face lit up bright and Silas adjusted the scarf that had to have been wrapped around her neck and shoulders four times already, and then she rushed to take some more strides in her skates. Talk about getting right back on the horse.

Niles walked behind Inigo, and he glanced over his shoulder at him. He was carrying skates and had a plastic bag in his hand, and he was only just arriving. “Better late than never?” Inigo asked, and Niles took a seat on a bench to change into the skates.

Niles was not as horrible as Inigo first suspected. He was a trustworthy man with an upstanding career. He was just more than a little happy to make awful jokes at Inigo's expense. He was also twice the flirt Inigo ever was, and not shy about being suggestive. He was also... sort of fun. Inigo almost looked up to him in a way (and not just because he was taller). He wished he had half the confidence that he must have had in himself.

“I'd say sorry but I'm not.” Niles answered. He worked every Saturday, Inigo learned, but not on Mondays. He had no idea why he'd chosen that schedule, considering it always conflicted with the family events, but there was likely a hidden reason beneath it all. “You're not on the ice yet, so I didn't miss the show.”

Inigo's joke turned into a strained smile and he turned back towards the ice. Yes, he thought it would be a spectacle, too. He was not looking forward to it. What if he fell? What if he _hurt himself_? That would be twice as bad as falling. He could hardly imagine cracking his tailbone on the ice and the jokes that would follow. If not from Niles then certainly from _Owain_. Or, worse, _Brady_.

Brady was still working on his medical degrees but he already had many certifications. Inigo and Owain were his brothers, and as such they never had to make appointments to see a doctor unless Brady couldn't figure it out first. He could already hear Brady's backwards laughter in his mind.

Elise whizzed past him so fast he almost didn't realize it was her, save that he was nearly whipped in the face by her pigtails. She was moving so quickly he thought she could hold some sort of speed skating record, because in spite of how horrified Inigo was that she was going to lose control and smash into a wall, she hadn't yet. Then again, not a moment after he had the thought she looped back around and pulled arms and legs in tight enough that she began to spin in place, span so fast that _Inigo_ was dizzy. He had to look away.

Xander was incredible on the ice. Inigo had promised to join him as soon as he felt ready, but Inigo was putting it off both because of his fears of falling and also because he was enjoying the opportunity to watch Xander skate. It was like watching someone dance. From a man who took dance classes because he felt inadequate (and he hardly was!) he seemed to know all there was to know about skating. He skated like performers did, with well timed swizzles and slow, beautiful turns.

Inigo's heart leaped up into his throat when he built up his speed around a turn and with the telltale scrape of the ice he jumped. (How could he jump? Inigo could hardly stand, and he wasn't even _on the ice_ yet.) Inigo wasn't any authority on the types of jumps involved in skating, but he was sure that there were three twists in that lutz. That was the kind of jump that athletes could have trouble with.

Elise was speeding at Xander so fast—for a split second Inigo worried they would crash and hurt each other. Instead Xander landed his jump gracefully and Elise nearly crashed into him...but he caught her by the wrists and slid back. Instead of either of them falling his grip on her wrists pulled them into a quick, but controlled, spin. When they came to a stop Elise giggled and threw her arms around Xander's shoulders.

Honestly that was the most incredible thing Inigo thought he might ever see in his life, in terms of 'nice save'. Elise pushed off the blade of her skates and took off again, and Xander looked after her a moment, before he looked up at Inigo with a smile that was probably warm enough to melt all the ice.

Honestly prior to that second Inigo hadn't noticed Niles leaning up against the wall with him, but he sure did notice him when he spoke up. “Crazy how good he looks when he smiles, right?”

Inigo nodded his head absently, but a tiny blush and half a second later he corrected himself. “I—he's always attractive, I think. But... The smiles certainly don't hurt.”

“Well sure, he and Leo both have that whole look going for them.” Niles agreed, and although Inigo turned his head to look at Niles, the man in question had his eyes set on the rink. Maybe on Xander or Leo? It looked more like he was spacing out than focusing on anyone in particular. Only a second after he said that he backed away from the wall and walked the two steps back to the bench. He grabbed for the bag and pulled a shirt out of it. He tossed it at Inigo.

He was _lucky_ to catch it. He hardly thought he was going to have anything thrown at him, but he held it and thought it was very soft. _Very expensive_. Maybe a gift from one of his siblings? “Hold that for a sec.”

“Most people ask before they throw.” Inigo quipped, but then he looked back over his shoulder at Xander, and back again. “What 'look' is it that they have?”

There were probably locker rooms somewhere that Niles could have been changing his shirt in, but he was pretty quick about it. It made some sense, Inigo figured it was probably uncomfortable to try and skate (or do anything really) in a dress shirt. It was sometimes difficult to dance, he knew. No doubt as part of this family Niles was trained in skating.

“Hm? Tall, strong, _blonde_ ,” Niles listed off the traits that Leo and Xander shared while he peeled his shirt over his head, instead of taking the time to unbutton it. “Mm, blondes are my type. Blondes are _great_. You wouldn't think someone's hair color made a difference, but all the crazy ones are blonde. Promise.”

Crazy? Xander didn't seem crazy. Neither did Leo. But he was sure he could take Niles' word for that, if only because he knew them much longer, and much better. Niles hesitated though, and he added the words “ _These_ blondes aren't my type. They're too serious for my tastes. I won't steal them out from under you.”

All things considered Inigo wouldn't have thought Niles would try. After all, they were his brothers—or at least they had explained Niles' relationship to them as such. “Xander isn't...” He tried, but he couldn't really make that point. “Well he isn't _always_ so serious. He's just...”

“I know.” Niles reached out and took the sweater back from Inigo, and he turned around just enough to toss the other shirt onto the bench. “He does have a cute smile. You must be doing something right.”

It was when he'd turned around that Inigo noticed it. A tattoo that ran down the entire length of Niles' back. At first he thought it was a tattoo, at least. Then it sank in, a realization, and he couldn't even contain the word “Woah.”

Niles had his arms in the sweater in front of him already, but he hadn't raised it over his head. He stopped when he heard Inigo, and then a smirk flashed on his face. He turned around again to show Inigo the words, and then asked over his shoulder, “Ha, like it? I'm almost proud of this bullshit at this point in my life.”

“This is your soulmate mark?” Inigo asked, and he couldn't help taking a (wobbly) step closer. The writing extended all the way from between his shoulder blades and down to the small of his back. Inigo didn't try to read the words in the dimmed lighting of the rink, but he could see the familiar shape of the writing. The way the circles didn't quite close all the way, the way the 'i's were left without a dot...

“It's the weirdest goddamn thing. Elise and Camilla have it memorized, but it doesn't make any sense. I used to hate it but it's won me a lot of bets over 'whose marking is worse'.” Inigo had read enough of Owain's diary to know his best friend's handwriting. Still... something about it seemed wrong. He was sure of the handwriting but the vocabulary seemed a little off, from what he noticed right away. He didn't have time to read the whole thing, because Niles pulled his shirt down over his head and body. Then he crammed his other shirt into the plastic bag. Kept his gun holstered to his hip. Inigo guessed that would be a dangerous thing to leave sitting unattended in a walmart bag. “Of course, nothing tops you, Toilet Boy.”

Niles stepped out onto the ice then and in the blink of an eye he'd cut across the rink to catch up with Leo and Forrest. He scooped up the little boy and held him up high over his head for a few seconds, spinning them both and earning a squeal of delight from the four year old. Once he set him down he tucked his hands into his pockets and skated close to Leo, to chat, Inigo supposed.

He leaned against the wall again, watched him, and thought about his earlier comment. Blondes were the best because they were crazy? Ha! _He hasn't even met crazy yet._ Inigo thought. He was so sure that was Owain's writing. He wished he could have read it better, because he no doubt could prove it if he had. The thought swam through his mind and he felt a smile pull across his face.

He had met Owain's soulmate. He'd known him this whole time, joked about him even. Owain had heard stories about how awkward Niles could be. He knew his name when Inigo talked about Xander's family. He wondered when _they_ would meet... and if he was allowed to intervene. Was fate still in charge of that, or had Inigo been given the means to introduce them early? Or was it even early..? Maybe Inigo introducing them _was fate_?

“Do you think you'll skate, or just stand here the whole evening?”

Inigo looked up and Xander was in front of him, standing on the other side of the wall that surrounded the rink. Inigo grinned at him. “I can't fall if I stay over here.” Probably. It wasn't entirely true though, he _could fall_. He didn't want to chance it, though, so he'd been pretty satisfied with his position at the wall.

“You have never been anything less than graceful with every move you make.” Xander argued his point and he slid closer to the gap in the wall, the entrance to the ice. He held out his hand, and Inigo hesitantly took it. “I won't let you fall.”

“Lest I take you down with me.” Inigo muttered. Not a moment after he was on the ice he slipped, but he remained on his feet and wrapped both of his arms around Xander's. He had zero balance on the ice, no grip or friction to help him find his footing. All of his weight, he was sure, was being supported by Xander's poor arm.

It was just as awful as he expected! No matter how he shifted his weight or his feet he couldn't seem to find his footing, not to even mention his balance. Once they reached the center of the rink Inigo thought they were safer. Most people were skating around the outside of it. The center was calmer, slower.

He wanted to remember that smile forever. Xander turned Inigo so he was facing him and gently kicked his feet so they were the appropriate width apart. He held his hands on Inigo's shoulders gently, safely, and he smiled while he waited for him to get his balance. (As if that would ever happen.) His cheeks were pink, his nose too, from the chill in the air. Not surprising at all, because it was like a refrigerator in there. He looked at Inigo like he was the only person in the room, and that made this embarrassment worth it, he thought.

But twenty minutes later he was starting to question that. “I'm never going to get this.” He grumbled it while he watched Sophie skating all on her own, no longer even wobbling, let alone falling. Silas wasn't even at her side to guide her, he was just watching from the wall.

Xander had infinite patience with this, and that was... comforting. It was something he taught all of his siblings, Inigo supposed. He had heard enough negativity about their father to know that Xander had to have been the one to teach them. If he could teach all of them, surely he could teach Inigo. And... well Inigo wanted to learn. He wanted to fit in with this family.

“You're standing all on your own, now. It only takes practice, Inigo. I should think someone who practices dance as much as you would be better at this.”

It was true that he was standing all on his own, but he didn't necessarily think that was an improvement. “Now I'm just stranded in the middle of the ice.” He grumped the words, because he couldn't move. Sure, Xander's hands weren't on his shoulders anymore, but even just breathing wrong would make Inigo fall and he knew it. He was far from balanced.

Xander wasn't touching him anymore, he was actually tormenting him. Mocking him silently. While Inigo was trapped, suffering in the middle of the ice with no life boat to freedom, Xander turned in a slow circle around him. He didn't even have to move his feet, all he'd done was turn them out to a first position stance!

It gave him anxiety. Xander circling him like that, staring at him from honestly any angle he liked... not to mention the fact that he looked like an _idiot_ just standing there...

He slipped.

In his distraction, no less. His focus shifted from standing up to thinking about Xander and the result was his feet coming out from under him. He squeezed his eyes shut, tried to mentally prepare for impact...but instead he felt Xander catch him under his arms. It was with a very distinct chortle that he hoisted Inigo back up to his feet.

“Don't make fun of me!”

“I wouldn't dream of it, Inigo.” Xander said, smooth in spite of the clear amusement on his face. He was smiling so much today... it was a grand change from the ghosts of a smile he wore when he first met Inigo. There was even a little laugh in his throat when he said it, and Inigo supposed even falling wouldn't be a crisis if he got to hear that beautiful laugh. Or maybe it would be, because Inigo's legs weren't even holding him up now—and how would they be expected to when that laugh made his knees weak?

Xander took both of Inigo's hands in his, loosely, and Inigo thought it was a sweet relief from the cold. Everyone there was wearing gloves or mittens. Xander had told Inigo to bring a scarf, but he'd never considered gloves. It hardly mattered. His fingers were always cold anyway, what would a little ice hurt? Xander pulled Inigo slowly at first, he guided him and forced Inigo to move forward so as not to fall flat on his face. “Just like you're walking, and you'll get it in no time.”

He supposed this was working, to an extent. It actually felt like skating (assuming he ignored the fact that Xander was pulling him and also tried to pretend like he hadn't nearly just done the splits when he lost his footing). “This feels very cliché, you know. Like a hallmark movie.”

“A what?” Of course, Xander wasn't the type to lay on the sofa and watch horribly overdone romances. Inigo shook his head, and Xander went on to ask, “Do cliché things not appeal to you?”

Ha! Just the opposite. Inigo grinned at him, smiling genuinely for the first time since he stood on the ice he thought, and he shook his head. “I'm a man for the classics! I love traditional love stories. Call me sentimental.” He very much loved watching those movies with his aunts. Xander's family clearly was happy going out and playing in the winter, but Inigo's had always stayed indoors for the most part. A snowman perhaps, but most of his winter memories involved being curled up around the fireplace, watching classic movies, and hiding from the cold. Of course, snow and romance and winter was always wonderfully romantic _in theory_. Inigo had a hard time believing it could be romantic in practice. Life wasn't a movie, after all.

He turned his head when he saw a blur and then he groaned in frustration. Sure, he was moving and keeping up with Xander, even standing up straight, but that blur hadn't been Elise. “Should I be embarrassed that Forrest and Sophie are skating literal circles around me? I'm not sure they were babied this much.”

“They've both been skating before.” Xander offered, but the crooked smile on his face gave away his lie before it was even complete. Inigo couldn't decide if he wanted to laugh or whine and so he did a little bit of both.

“I'm hopeless! I—Woa—oh.” The train of words that tumbled out of his mouth all happened in fairly rapid succession, along with the events that led to them. Elise came skating towards them at speeds far too high again, and Inigo was sure she was going to crash into him. Instead Xander pulled Inigo forward rather quickly by his hands—so quickly that their bodies came together and Inigo was pressed safely to his chest. (Entirely to keep him safe from Elise, perhaps, but Inigo was certainly a little flustered by the abrupt invasion of his personal space. Or, he supposed, by his own invasion of Xander's space. Either way their chests touched and he could smell his cologne again.)

When Elise passed by safely Xander let Inigo slide back just a touch, but they were still close and the way their hands were held was very similar to the starting position for the dance they had been learning together each week. His mouth was hanging open, he realized, because it clamped shut when Xander kicked Inigo's foot again, forced his toes to fan out away from his heels slightly. The result, Inigo realized, was a spin. Slow and gentle, with their hands clasped together like the dancers in a the music box his mother used to keep on the mantle.

He blushed pink, but not because he wasn't good at skating. Because his heart was racing, because they were close. Luckily his blush blended in to the way his face was already flushed from the cold air. He curled his fingers tighter around Xander's, slid them into the proper position, and he saw a short, concerned frown cross over his boyfriend's features. “You should have worn gloves.”

“Can you feel how cold my hands are through your gloves?” Inigo asked, and honestly that was a surprise. He could hardly even feel his hands anyway, but he could feel the warmth coming off of Xander's.

“...Yes, I can. It's... alarming. You should take mine.”

Inigo shook his head slowly left and right, but he thought that was an incredibly sweet offer. He was used to his fingers being cold. He couldn't deny that they were aching at this point, but he was young and the pain would fade when they left. He didn't want to let go of Xander's hands yet, anyway. He was enjoying this, now. He liked the slow turn, he liked being the music box dancers. He liked being with Xander. Without any other excuses to make, he whispered “Your hands are too big.”

“Say again?” Xander asked, and he raised his brow just so and Inigo knew he was trying to decide if he was being insulted. He laughed, softly, and shook his head once more. He wasn't insulting him. Not really, but he supposed it had been possibly the strangest comment he could have made. He supposed he would just have to go with it.

“I said you have giant gorilla hands and your gloves won't fit someone like me. Keep them for yourself.”

When Xander accepted a challenge he always did so with a smirk on his face. It was something of a game, Inigo thought, to see that smirk. Xander said “Have you considered, instead, that you may just have small hands?”

Actually Inigo knew he had small hands. He was pretty petite in general for someone of his height. He took after his mother, and the exercises he did hardly bulked him up so much as kept him lithe for dancing. He knew he had small hands because his mother's ring fit easily on his finger without having to be re-sized. He flashed Xander a grin. “Well when you put it like that I suppose I _have_ to apologize. I'm so sorry I insulted your big hands.”

“I have normal hands.” Oh, there was that stern voice. Still a smile, still a hint of amusement. Xander had never truly used his big mean 'business' voice on Inigo. He'd heard it used on Niles a few times, and Elise once. It was the 'you're in trouble' voice. This voice was not that voice. This voice was softer. Calmer. Dreamier. _The sort of voice that would sound really good in bed,_ Inigo thought. Of course, the thought passed quickly enough. He had an 'argument' to win, after all.

“But mine are abnormally small and cold? You wound me.” He said it with every intention to pull his hand away and put it against his head, act like he was offended.

He didn't get to do that. Instead Xander's hands shifted around his, and he pulled both of Inigo's hands to his mouth. He breathed across them, and the heat of it gave Inigo both chills and goosebumps along his arms. One hand, and then the other, he pressed a tiny kiss to each of Inigo's knuckles as their spinning came to a relaxed, slow stop. “Your hands, as well as the rest of you, are perfect.”

 _I'm in love_. Inigo leaned forward, tried to inch just a little closer. He wanted to kiss him—the stupid man that made him swoon on the ice. The perfect man who was just out of reach. He didn't kiss him. He fell. Just like that. One second he was standing, leaning in for a kiss... and the next he was on his ass in the middle of the ice. “Oh my _god._ ” Inigo whined, and he reached up to hide his face in his hand. It hadn't hurt—in the very least—but he could hear laughter (laughter he knew belonged to Niles and Elise) across the rink. He blinked back a few tears (were they from humiliation or pain? He supposed he didn't know one way or the other.) and Xander crouched in front of him on the ice.

“Are you alright?” No, not really. His pride hurt more than his butt, certainly. His eyes flickered over Xander, over the way he was crouched low on the ice. He reached out and tugged hard on his shirt, made him fall forward. Xander was forced to catch himself with his hands on the ice (who knew when the last time Xander fell was) and from that position Inigo easily leaned forward and stole his kiss.

 

…

 

Most everyone came in separate cars. Camilla and Elise rode with Corrin and her family, and Leo and Forrest came from their own home. They didn't live with Xander, Camilla, or Elise anymore. Inigo learned that Leo moved out shortly after he graduated, and not long before Forrest was born. Inigo also thought that was a silly thing to do... because nearly every time he had gone to Xander's home Leo and Forrest were there.

Xander had picked Inigo up to go skating, and he was going to drive him home as well. Niles was the only one lacking a ride (Apparently the office he worked in wasn't far from the rink, or his home, and so he walked) but Xander easily told him that he would drive him home as well. Inigo didn't mind, it wasn't like he was desperate for one on one time with Xander. He'd spent the whole evening focusing on Inigo and teaching him to skate. A success! Sort of. He could _sort of_ skate, in the same way that people could sort of swim. He could skate _slowly_.

“The card reader isn't working.” Xander murmured. They had stopped at a gas station to fill up his car (even the wealthy had to pump their own gas, it seemed), but Inigo didn't see why that was so horrible.

“I'll go inside and pay.” He offered. He would have even paid for the gas, he had certainly been exempt from paying for his admission to the rink... but Xander pushed a bill into his hand and Inigo shrugged it off. He would just pay for their next date. He truly did try his best. Dating a rich man was harder than it seemed.

He was only halfway through the parking lot when Niles appeared at his side. “I don't need a babysitter.” Inigo joked.

“I have some paperwork to fill out at home. Cheap coffee sounds good.” Niles said, as if he owed Inigo some sort of explanation for why he wanted to go into a gas station. Inigo didn't mind his company. In fact, if his earlier suspicions were correct, he thought he would need to get used to his company even more than ever.

Niles walked back to the coffee machines when they got inside, but Inigo went straight to the clerk to pay for the gas, so that Xander wouldn't have to wait too long. Once he'd done that he joined Niles. “What sort of paperwork do you have to do?” He asked.

Niles looked almost amused. “Oh, look at you pretending to care about my job. It's almost a shame you're taken.” He said, while he pressed the lid onto the paper cup. “My job isn't just about taking kids out of their homes. Once their files are in my hands it's my job to assign them to foster care and keep up with them for a while. Once I make my recommendations I pass their case files off to someone else. If I don't have my reports done sometimes I have homework.”

Inigo was content to listen to what Niles was saying while he walked back to the counter until he walked right into his arm. Specifically because Niles had raised his arm to stop him from moving forward. “Wha...” He began, but he stopped when he looked up. It was obvious, when he looked up. There was a man with a cheap mask pulled over his head, and he couldn't have been much older than Inigo. He had his hand positioned so it looked like he had a gun (and honestly Inigo wasn't sure if he did or not) and he was shouting demands at the clerk, asking for the money from the tills.

“Stay back.” Niles spoke to him, gave him that direction, but it wasn't as if he needed to be told. He couldn't have moved another step if he was asked to. Guns weren't his strong suit, he didn't tolerate them well. He tolerated them even less when they were pointed at people.

As if the situation could possibly get worse, Niles set the coffee cup down on a shelf and actually drew his gun. His for sure gun, a real gun. “Hey, kid,” He called out to the man, as if he was younger. Niles was surely the same age as Inigo. It caught his attention, he looked away from the clerk and right down to the gun Niles had drawn. “Back away from the counter slow. Hands up.”

What was he _doing_? He could get hurt—he could die. Niles held up a badge like he was a cop, and honestly maybe he was? Inigo didn't know exactly what his career entailed. He knew he was an EMT, maybe he was some kind of officer? If he died it wouldn't matter, he'd just be a pedestrian. Not a hero.

Niles held his gun the way that Inigo thought real officers would. He had both hands on it, his feet were spread shoulder-width apart, he had both of his eyes (although Inigo knew only one actually _worked)_ trained on the man in question. He didn't hold his gun like a frilly tv show, he didn't strike an over-sexualized pose and cock the gun sideways. He was positioned to shoot, not to threaten.

Inigo had to swallow a few times because he actually thought he was going to throw up. His fingertips twitched at his sides. His brain was screaming at him to back up and hide behind a shelf, get as far from the guns as he could, but his legs wouldn't move. Couldn't move.

_Stay here, boys. Don't move! Don't talk—be quiet!_

Everything was frozen, even the clerk looked between them with wide eyes. Then movement. He ran. The man bolted fast from the store, and when he did it was obvious he didn't actually have a weapon with him. Inigo could hear sirens in the distance (did the clerk have a panic button?) Niles lowered his gun and walked closer to the door, held it in a lower position while he moved so it wasn't pointed at anyone. He took a peek outside, but then shook his head and walked back in. He replaced the weapon at his side. Inigo's eyes had been trained on Niles the whole time. The idiot who was playing hero. What if that man had a weapon? What if he shot? Niles walked over to the clerk.

Inigo registered Xander's worried face a second before he set a hand on Inigo's shoulder, but he still flinched. Had to flinch. Jumped even, and sucked in a breath so deep and so hard it burned, like he was taking in air after almost drowning. Xander lifted his hand a moment, and Inigo stumbled back away from him, bumped into a shelf and nearly knocked over a display. “Are you alright?”

“No, I...” He wasn't alright. What a stupid question! He glanced at the clerk and Niles again. Niles was watching him, listening to him. The clerk was wiping away tears, she must have been scared. Inigo was scared, too.

“Are you hurt?” Xander's voice was so concerned, so urgent. Niles asked if he was breathing alright from behind Xander, from the counter. No, he was breathing very fast, he couldn't catch his breath. He didn't care—he didn't want Niles to bother him about it. Xander tried to reach out and touch Inigo again but he dodged away from his hand and shook his head once more. _Please don't touch me_.

“I'm not—I'm not hurt. I just... I need Owain.” He needed him. He needed to know he was safe at home. He needed to know he was in one piece. He needed to know he wasn't dying. He bit his lip hard, tried to distract himself from his fears, but he felt like he was going to be swallowed whole. He couldn't breathe but his pulse felt so fast, he felt dizzy. He hated this. He needed Owain.

Niles walked closer, tucked his hands into his pockets and looked Inigo up and down with his lips pressed into a flat line and his brows knitted in concern. Genuine concern on Niles' face of all people. Inigo wondered if he'd ever see that sight again, but couldn't focus on it. Niles asked “Who's Owain?”

“Your roommate?” Xander asked, answering the question for Niles. “Is he here?”

“No! No. He's at—he's at home. I think he's... I need to go home.” He couldn't answer questions! How dare they even ask? He wanted to leave, he _needed_ to leave. It was so hard to breathe in there, he wanted to go outside.

“I'll take you home just as soon as Niles speaks with the--”

“No! I can't stay. I can't. I'm sorry—I'll walk. I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I can't stay. I've got to go.” He understood. Niles needed to speak with the officers when they arrived. Inigo thought that was probably smart. He wasn't staying. He couldn't stay. He ducked past Xander and Niles and walked towards the door, to the exit, and he only barely noticed Xander and Niles exchanged concerned glances. He heard them talk between themselves, but he'd hardly made it far into the parking lot when Xander followed him.

The fresh air was an immediate relief. Maybe, he thought, also the fact that he was going home. He was on his way home. Home was safe. Owain was safe. He turned to look over his shoulder when he heard the clopping sound Xander's shoes made. He tensed up when Xander wrapped an arm around his shoulders, but...

 _Okay, that's not so bad_ , _is it Inigo? You're fine. He's not going to hurt you._

The magic of soulmates, he thought, because he felt safer when Xander touched him. Maybe, he supposed, he shouldn't have flinched away from him earlier. He didn't say anything at all, although he slumped into Xander's arm a little. He thought it felt a little bit like he had the first day he met his family. That had been pie compared to this.

Inigo took a seat in the passenger seat but he started shaking again the moment they separated. The drive to his apartment was silent but thankfully short. He sort of felt bad that Niles would have to walk home, but... not that bad. He couldn't breathe, he'd needed to leave. He looked up when they pulled into the parking lot, and he was admittedly surprised when Xander parked the car in a space, instead of pulling up to the awning. He looked at Inigo with genuine, pure concern. He looked at him like he was scared. “Are you alright?” He asked again. Inigo shook his head no again. “Let me walk you inside.”

Inigo nodded his head and pushed his way out of the car. He walked stiffly beside his soulmate. He felt bad. He felt horrible. Xander didn't deserve this.

_Stay here, boys._

_We need to get out of here!_

Inigos hands were shaking too much to get his key in the lock of his apartment. He kept trying but he just couldn't get it. His breath caught and his eyes stung and hot, quiet tears slipped down his cheeks. He didn't want to cry, not here, not now. He wanted to be home. He didn't want Xander to see him like this. He didn't want to scare him off. He didn't want Xander to think he was broken.

Warm. Inigo blushed but was also relieved by Xander's warm hand wrapping around his own. It guided him to put the key into the lock, and when he heard it click open he pushed the door fast. The lights were off, and he groped for the switch to turn them on. The first thing he felt was a sticky note over the light switch. It read “Went to see a movie with Sev, be back at 11!” Inigo's anxiety spiked even higher, if that was possible. Owain wasn't home. He could be hurt. He could be in danger. It was only 10:30.

“Inigo..?”

“Please don't go.” Inigo whispered, and he turned back around to face Xander. He tucked his arms close to himself, folded them and tucked his hands underneath. He was more afraid of being alone than he was of staying at the gas station, he thought. “I'm s-sorry, I just... I don't... guns.” He squeaked out the last word, but Xander stepped inside and pushed the door shut. He started to take a step closer to Inigo, but Inigo shook his head.”No—no. Lock it.” Xander did.

They sat together on the couch. For a second Xander just sat beside him, looking around. Did he think the apartment was small? He could probably fit the whole thing in their dining room. Inigo leaned against him then. He curled up close with his knees and legs on the couch with him, laid his head on Xander's shoulder and sighed in relief when he wrapped his arm around him. It was silent, but that was what he needed.

_Stay here, boys. Don't move!_

Xander slid his hand up and down Inigo's back slowly, it was comforting. It made Inigo drowsy. He supposed that was normal. He usually got tired when this happened. This was the worst... that he could ever remember it being. Xander was good at this. He was naturally warm and comforting and good... but it wasn't the same. Inigo needed Owain. He needed him to be home. He needed to know he was safe.

Twenty minutes slid by before he finally stopped crying. “I'm sorry.” he said over and over, really. At least four times, maybe more.

Xander kissed the top of his head, it was nice... it felt nice. “You've apologized enough. I would rather you tell me how I can help.”

“You c-can't.” Inigo whispered. He didn't like saying it, but it was true. There was nothing he could do really. Nothing more than what he already was. He looked down and reached out to wrap both of his hands around one of Xander's. “I... my mom... and Owain, he...”

“I won't force you to tell me.”

No, he wanted to tell him. He wanted to explain, he wanted Xander to _understand_. He wanted that so badly, because if he didn't understand he would surely only think he was crazy. He wanted Xander to know how he felt. This was a weakness, this made him broken, and this was probably the first time since he'd met Xander that he thought he could tell him about his mother.

And so he told him.

 

_Inigo was ten, and so was Owain. They had known each other for a few years, they became fast friends. They were next door neighbors, but that day they were playing together in the kitchen. Olivia was at the counter, peeling an orange for the two of them to split. Inigo heard the front door open, and so did Olivia. She looked confused, but she smiled at Inigo and said “I'll go see who it is.”_

_When she came back she ran, and she looked scared. She grabbed both of them by their shirts and pulled them to the kitchen sink. She opened up the cabinets and pushed them, ushered them inside. It was a tight squeeze, but they barely fit._

“ _Stay here, boys. Don't move! Don't talk—be quiet!”_

_Through the crack in the cabinet they could see Olivia run towards the other room. She was looking for a phone to call for help. She shrieked. Owain looked at Inigo with big eyes, scared eyes, and he whispered._

“ _We need to get out of here! We need to get help!”_

_Inigo shook his head no, back and forth. “N-no! It's dangerous! Mom said stay here, don't.”_

“ _He's not in here, come on! It's dangerous **here**!” _

_Inigo refused. His mother said to stay hidden and so he did. Fear gripped him when Owain opened the cabinet and crawled out. He ran to the back door, and Inigo heard him shut it behind him, and he was gone. Not even a full heartbeat later Olivia ran into the kitchen, with the man chasing her. She ran behind the table, Inigo could hear the chairs scoot while she ducked behind them. He couldn't see anything at all. Then he heard the gun shot._

_It was like thunder, the sound not even done ringing in his ears when Olivia screamed. She hit the ground with a thud that made Inigo's stomach lurch. He could just barely see her arm where it met her shoulder. He could just barely see the slow-growing pool of red beneath her._

_The man left the room, presumably to search for something to steal. Inigo stayed in the cabinet. He stayed in the cabinet even after police arrived, even after the man was apprehended. He stayed in the cabinet even when Owain was shouting his name from outside. He stayed until he heard Lissa calling for him, with a man's voice telling her not to go inside right behind her._

“ _Inigo. Oh, Inigo. You're alright! You're alright.” The cabinet opened. Lissa pulled him out of it—forced him out of it. She picked him up like he was just a tiny child, and he laid his cheek on her shoulder. He looked down. His mother was pale, her skin looked so cold. Her eyes were glassy and partly lidded. All of her clothes were stained red. She was dead. That man had a gun, he killed her. He could have killed Owain, too, if he'd waited a second longer to run for help._

 

It was remarkable how Inigo could tell that story without crying. Maybe, he supposed, he had just cried himself out. He was shaking, curled against his boyfriend, but not crying. Not until he repeated that thought in his head about Owain. He could have died, because he was trying to be a hero. Niles could have died _that night_ trying to play hero.

Inigo closed his mouth and shook his head. “I don't... I don't do guns.” He whispered. Xander nodded his head, but didn't say a word. He never said a thing on the subject, just listened... and maybe that was for the best. He combed his fingers through Inigo's hair. The door knob jiggled and Inigo's head snapped up. The lock clicked, the door opened, and he was there. Owain came inside by himself, pushed the door shut behind him, and he looked...

Entirely confused. Then maybe worried. “What... happened?” He asked.

Xander shifted to stand. Inigo wondered if he understood. He wondered if he could see why Inigo needed Owain. He had to make sure he was okay. He'd spent his whole life making sure Owain never did something stupid and died. He just needed... to be okay. He needed his friend, his _brother_. It physically hurt when Xander pulled his hand out of Inigo's, he thought. He took his warmth and his comfort with him. Before he left he tilted Inigo's face up. He pecked his lips and pressed a slower, longer kiss to his forehead. “Please call me for anything, Inigo.” He said it so quietly, but then he straightened up and left.

Owain locked the door after him, and walked closer to Inigo. “Hey, you're...”

Inigo was on his feet momentarily to hug him. He pulled Owain close and listened to his heartbeat and thought it was strong. He was okay. Owain sighed and wrapped his arms around Inigo's shoulders, and he squeezed tight. A good tight. “You're alright.” Owain murmured.

Standing there like that he wasn't even crying anymore. He'd hardly been before. Normally when this happened, when he had these episodes... it took a lot more to calm him down. Xander had done it so easily. He'd been a wall of comfort for Inigo. Inigo wobbled on his feet and Owain pushed him back towards the couch. He sat beside him, and held out his hand. Inigo slid his fingers into it. It wasn't the same as Xander's hand. It didn't feel just as perfect to hold.

“Do you think he's going to be mad at me..?”

“Xander? Why, because you came home? I think not!” He smiled, but Inigo felt him squeeze his hand. He looked up at him, at Owain, and frowned at him. Owain shook his head. “No, really. I think he'll understand.”

Xander had done so much for him that day. He'd taken care of him. It was beyond a kiss, beyond a hug. Inigo _fell apart_ and Xander didn't even hesitate or change his mind. He took it in stride. He'd held his hand and let Inigo lay against him. His thoughts flashed back to the skating rink, and he revisited his earlier thought. “I'm in love with him, Owain.”

Owain grinned wide at Inigo, and he rolled his eyes at him. “Okay? You're telling me this like you think I don't already know.”

But really, Inigo decided. Not a crush, not infatuation. This wasn't how he felt about lovely ladies he spoke sweetly to. This was real. He was _really_ in love.

 


	4. 4. December

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Month Inigo spent a night.

_December_

 

“Anything I want?” Inigo asked, and there was a touch of skepticism in his voice. The cold weather had kicked in full force, but he tolerated it because he had yet to see any snow. It was easy to tolerate it when he was wrapped up in warm clothes and often huddled into Xander's side. Spending more and more time with Xander was really the only thing carrying him through the cold months. He made Inigo's days warm and bright. They went dancing every Saturday but the evening before Xander had to cancel on him because a business meeting came up. Inigo hadn't really been mad about it (maybe just a little disappointed), but it seemed to him that Xander was trying to make up for it... because he was offering the world to him.

They were walking through the park where they met. Not the trail they met on, there was no sense in going back that way, but the park itself. It was already being decorated for Christmas, although that was another two weeks away. They were wrapping the lamp posts in garland and putting up signs warning people against cutting down public trees and building something that Inigo imagined would turn into a photo set for pictures with 'Santa'.

Christmas was coming and Inigo was happy... because he had a few ideas for what to get Xander for Christmas. His gift-anxiety no longer applied, because he had spent so much more time with him. He thought he could think of a few practical gifts (a nicer day planner for work, since the one time Inigo had glimpsed his it was falling apart, for example) but he also had thought of a few sentimental gifts he may like. He'd also made Xander promise not to spend too much money on a gift for him... because well that wouldn't be fair. Inigo wasn't rich, he could only spend so much.

For now though, standing there in the park, he didn't really know what Xander felt he needed to make up for. Sure,he canceled a date, but they were already walking together, and he had already invited Inigo to his house to have dinner with his family that evening. Offering to let Inigo chose what they spent the afternoon doing seemed sort of above and beyond.

“Anything within reason.” Xander answered confidently. Maybe too confidently. 

The words set off alarm bells in Inigo's head. Anything within reason? That meant there was something 'not' within reason. Inigo couldn't imagine what that was, but he wanted to find out—if only for a bit of fun. Xander had been so swamped with work the last week it seemed that he earned some fun. (Inigo really just hoped the trend wouldn't continue, and that he would be able to enjoy his days off.) “What does 'within reason' entail?”

Xander glanced at him and Inigo thought for a second he almost looked nervous. He must have known Inigo planned to tease him. The look melted away quick enough and he shook his head no. He was probably trying to will away any weird ideas that Inigo might get. Of course, it was far too late. All the strange ideas had already passed through his mind. He was moving on to more normal ideas, already. He was thinking about what he _actually_ wanted to do, but there was no sense in missing an opportunity to have a little fun.

Inigo flashed a smile that was littered with mischief at his boyfriend, and he guided him by the hand out of the park. Across the street from the park were many smaller businesses, it was the 'main street' of Nohr. Once upon a time all the interesting local businesses were there with lots of hustle and bustle, but as the city industrialized it became more of a place for little, homey shoppes. It was still fun to walk down main street sometimes. There were candle stores and restaurants and it was home to the bar where Severa worked. Inigo came to a stop in front of one such shop, but it was far from homey. He lifted his free arm and gestured at the front door, and Xander was already shaking his head no before the question could even be asked. “I'm not sure a tattoo is... within reason.”

Honestly Inigo had no intentions of letting Xander get a tattoo over something as stupid as a missed dance date, but he thought it was funny that Xander thought so... little of his spontaneity. Of course God knew Xander needed to break his plans and do things he hadn't scheduled in advance now and then. Inigo reached up and pinched Xander's earlobe between his thumb and index finger. He rubbed it gently and wondered how far he could take this joke before Xander broke or Inigo cracked and started laughing. “I never said you should get a tattoo.”

Xander lifted his hand up and clasped it over Inigo's, and a look of discomfort crossed his features. “A piercing.” he said, like he was understanding a great mystery. Inigo grinned at him. Xander seriously thought Inigo would ask him to get his ear pierced. It was incredible. Was he so demanding?

“Well I'm only just testing to see how far 'within reason' will get me. I suppose it was wrong of me to assume you weren't... well, you know.” He cleared his throat and looked away from Xander's eyes (if only because he couldn't bear to look at him for risk of laughing) “...chicken.”

“I never said..!” Xander hesitated after he began that argument. Clearly he saw now that Inigo had walked him into a wall. If he argued that he wasn't a chicken, did he not have to pierce his ear to prove it? There was no way for him to come out as the winner. Victory belonged to the dancer, this round.  

“Don't panic!” Inigo lowered his hand from Xander's ear and instead tugged gently on his hands to get him walking again. Xander didn't move, and so Inigo explained. “It was all in good fun, Xander. There's a bakery up this street that sells cupcakes. That's what I really want—your ear may remain a virgin.”

Why wasn't he moving? Xander stood in place in front of the door, in spite of Inigo trying to lead him away. Inigo dipped his head to one side and tried to make sense of the frown on Xander's face. His frowns were much more limited when he was with Inigo now. Every time he saw Elise or Camilla they bragged about how much more often he smiled, or talked with them, or tried to make jokes... so to see a frown directed specifically at him was hardly any fun. Xander exhaled a short sigh through his nose and Inigo thought he was going to teach him to breathe better, soon. Maybe he would _actually_ teach him yoga? He thought that would be an interesting challenge.

“If I... had my ear pierced, today... would you do something for me?”

“I was only joking, Xander, you don't have to...” Inigo began, but then he considered what was being asked. The wind picked up and Inigo took a step closer to Xander. He didn't say it out loud, but he was pretty sure Xander already knew that he was frequently used as a wall to hide from the cold. He never complained, often just wrapped his arms around Inigo's shoulders. “What would you ask me to do?”

Xander's lips curled into a smirk. “Something within reason.”

“What, like I 'owe you'? Hmm...” Inigo wrinkled his nose initially, but he couldn't honestly think of anything Xander could ask him to do that would be an issue. This actually seemed like a good bargain. Not... that Xander needed to pierce his ear, not really. He was perfect exactly as he was. This had all just been a joke, after all. He would probably look good, though, and Inigo was more than a little interested in seeing if Xander could really will himself to do something 'crazy'. “Do I get to pick the earring?”

Xander reached out and tugged open the door, holding it for Inigo to walk inside the shop. “Work appropriate.” He chimed behind him, and Inigo thought that was almost hilarious. He was so sure Xander was going to back out of this. The moment he walked into the shop his ears were met by metal music (a far cry from the classical things Xander liked) and he thought it smelled like an ash tray. The walls were lined with tattoo designs, most of them pinups of naked women and skulls with snakes crawling through them. He turned around and faced his soulmate with a raised brow.

“Still going through with this? You can back out, you know, I won't call you names.”

“Just... one ear?” Xander asked, and he walked towards a display case that contained the different studs they used for the piercings. Inigo followed and peeked at them too, quickly pointing to one with a cubic stone that was probably the size of Inigo's nose.

“How's that? You could have a bigger earring than me.” He snickered. “Just one ear. What do you think about... this one?” He pointed to a different stone. That was much smaller, and it was nearly the same shade of red as his eyes. “Ready to back out?”

“Hardly.” Xander cleared his throat. “So long as they practice proper sanitation. Do _you_ like that one?” Inigo looked very carefully into Xander's eyes. He didn't see any lack for resolve.

Was Xander going to pierce his ear? What did he want from Inigo so badly that he felt he had to physically alter himself to earn it? Chances were that Inigo would have happily given it to him without any trade. “What do you want from me?”

“Something within reason.” Xander repeated, and he backed away from the display so he could go get the attention of the man operating the shop. He reached out and pulled Inigo closer by his shoulders, and he added, “But for now, I would be happy enough with just your company.”

“Well you'll always have my company.” Inigo muttered under his breath. They were soulmates, after all—and obviously they liked each other well enough. He still wondered what it was Xander would ask him for later... but all things considered he'd started this mess, and he certainly couldn't back out of their deal... because when they left that shop Xander had a tiny, ruby-colored stud in his left ear.

 

…

 

Inigo had been sitting in the living room playing Chinese Checkers with Elise when he realized how bad it was snowing. Specifically he realized because Leo walked in and seemed more than a little concerned that he was still there. “Oh, are you stranded here, too?” He asked, and Inigo looked up from his spot on the plush carpet floor to raise a brow in his direction. “Forrest and I have decided to spend the night.”

“Stranded..?” He hadn't thought he was stranded. Xander was going to drive him home, but he hadn't yet. He was in his office. Inigo thought it was silly that they had a conference call on a Sunday. Didn't they know they would see each other on Monday? Why did they have to take Xander away from his free time? He said it wouldn't take long but... Elise brought out that board game because she thought it would take the better part of the evening. If Inigo could trust anyone to be brutally honest about Xander's work, he supposed it was Elise.

“Look outside!”

Elise jumped up first, knocking the board and subsequently the marbles across the floor. Inigo sighed at the ruined game. He hardly understood the rules _anyway_ (he had only just figured out what the goal was. Before he had just been jumping marbles willy-nilly)... but he supposed they were done playing now. There was no redeeming the mess she'd made. He stood up after her and followed her to the big window.

When Elise threw open the curtains he was nearly blinded by the white blanket that had draped itself across the landscape. Normally there was greenery and hedges and bushes but now it was all a thick coating of sparkling snow. It was already so high that Inigo thought it would be a struggle to even dig out a car, let alone drive on the roads. He chewed his lip, and Elise squealed with excitement.

“Inigo! Sleep over! We have tons of rooms.” Inigo turned his head to look at her, but she _winked at him_. It was horrifying, the sort of wink he would expect from Camilla, or _worse_ , from Niles. Clearly Niles was tainting her innocence with his lack thereof. “Or you could sleep with _Xander_ ~! Oh! It could be so much fun! I'll make you my favorite chocolate chip pancakes in the morning! With strawberries! Oh, _please_?!”

Oftentimes Inigo forgot that Elise was a teenager and knew well and good the functions of the adult body, but he was reminded when she suggested that he should sleep with Xander, when she winked at him and sang his name like that. “I—Elise! I..” Inigo tried, but he was blushing already and he couldn't come up with a good argument.

Was it so bad that sleeping with Xander sounded wonderful? Innocent sleeping! He could imagine being curled up with him beneath blankets, and so warm... and to wake up to that face would be a dream.

Leo was scoffing at his sister not a moment later. “Elise, hush.” He said it in a chuckle. Inigo really liked Leo. They got along well. He also appreciated him for what he did in that family. He worked a serious job but he managed to make time for his son and his siblings no matter what... whereas Xander was too much of a workoholic for that. (Inigo supposed that thought was bitter, he was just grumpy that work had taken away their weekend together. Xander did his best.) “I know she's just excited, but I would suggest you consider it, Inigo. The wind is stronger than it looks, and there's ice all over the roads.”

Inigo frowned when he looked out the window again. He hated snow, really. He couldn't ask Xander to drive him home in that, though. He'd be more likely to get into an accident and Inigo would be worried over it anyway... and so he turned to the bouncing blonde teenager and nodded at her. “Alright. I'll stay—so long as Xander doesn't mind.”

“As if he would _mind_!” Elise giggled. She ran off (to spread the good news, no doubt) and Inigo crouched down so he could put the marbles and board back into the game's box. He was going to be snowed in for the night with his boyfriend... and that sounded wonderful. He just wondered if all this snow would interfere with Xander getting to work in the morning. 

 

…

 

It was about five in the evening when the snow slowed down to a lazy fall. By then the snow drifts covered everything, it was about two feet deep. Inigo thought it was the perfect day to lay inside by the fire, maybe to curl up with Xander if he would let him. This crazy family that loved winter had something else planned. Or at least half of them. Camilla and Xander were both nowhere to be seen. Inigo had no idea what Camilla was up to, but he knew Xander was still trying to sort out some work. It was his _day off_.

Inigo didn't particularly _want to_ , but he put on his gloves and coat to go outside because all of those crazies did. He just wasn't a fan of snow. The wind chill hit him hard in the face the moment he stepped into it, and with just one step he sank in all the way up to his knees. Of course, while he was busy being miserable, everyone else was clearly already having fun.

Forrest and Elise had begun romping around the snow right away. They fell on their backs and made snow angels—only for the snow to collapse in on the little boy. Elise giggled and Forrest squealed out a laugh, but Inigo thought for a second Leo had been concerned when he had to tug Forrest out from under a foot of loose powder. Not a second later he was pushing a ball through the snow with Forrest, though, to try and form a snowman.

Inigo trudged a few slow steps towards the garden. Normally it was bright and green. The hedges were hard to make out, now. It was something of an obstacle course, he thought, with only the tallest of the topiary plants sticking above the snow drifts. It was sort of beautiful in a weird way. Even though Inigo hated the snow he could see that. There was a purity, there was a magic to snow that was undisturbed by anything at all. With his coat and gloves it wasn't _so bad_ he supposed... and he took a deep breath in through his nose. He sort of liked the way the air was so cold it stung a little to breathe. He sort of liked... the snow?

...That was, until a snowball hit him. Then he remembered how much he hated the snow. He felt it first as an impact against the back of his neck, but after that it was bits of snow slipping down between his skin and clothes. He yelped and arched his back and stood up on his toes even while he shook out his shirt in an effort not to have to suffer through that cold anymore. He didn't really find relief, but... He did know he had to kill someone.

He turned around to look upon the face of the man he would soon murder. He had expected it to be Forrest or Elise, really. Leo didn't strike him as someone to throw snowballs unprovoked, and Elise seemed _exactly_ like the sort of person to do that. He hadn't expected at all for Xander to be standing there, wrapped up in a black coat and big purple scarf and already holding a second snowball.

Honestly Inigo was almost so happy he had finished his work and come out to join them that he forgot to be mad. Almost. “Ha! What sort of _wag_ throws a snowball at a man while his back is turned?” He asked, and he placed both of his hands on his hips while he waited for the answer. He didn't get the sort of answer he expected. The insult clearly did nothing but encourage Xander, because he pulled his arm back and threw the second snowball towards Inigo. He supposed, in the very least, his back wasn't turned. Since that was the case, Inigo had time to raise his arms up to block the snow from hitting him square in the face. “I'm offended!”

“I doubt that.” Xander leaned down to scoop up another handful of snow and Inigo looked to his left and right. Just standing there in the middle of the open landscape he was a sitting duck, but there were hedges not far away. He let out a breathy laugh and turned to run—and ducked behind a hedge just in time to dodge the next snowball. From the safety of the hedge he crouched down and packed together some snow himself. Inigo wasn't sure how Xander was making his so perfectly round... his turned out more like a lumpy half-formed ball. It would still function, though, and so he waited for Xander to come after him.

And waited.

It was strange that Xander hadn't chased after him, he thought. He cautiously looked out from behind the hedge, but... he was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he had to take another call? But then it happened. Inigo felt cold again, a lot of cold, and he choked when (in one swoop) Xander used his arm to knock the snow off the top of the hedge and onto Inigo's crouched form. How had he even snuck up behind him in the snow? “Hey!” Inigo shouted. He shook his head to clear away some of the snow, but with no other plan of retaliation he took a step forward and squished the snowball he'd formed into Xander's face—even going so far as to rub it in.

Xander's reaction was appropriate, he sputtered and reached up to wipe the snow from his eyes and nose, and he made a noise that might have been a laugh. “I would advise you to pick your battles!”

Inigo shrugged innocently and took two steps backwards with his hands folded behind him. “You started this war.” He felt that was a fine argument. After all, Inigo wouldn't have had shove snow up his nose if he hadn't started it. He caught sight of Xander reaching down for a handful of snow before he took off running the opposite direction. He could hear Xander chasing him this time, the telltale sound of ice crunching under his boots. Inigo had always been remarkably fast, but Xander had an advantage on him with those legs. He was less likely to fall over in the snow.

Inigo ran towards the taller hedges, looking for any sort of shelter from Xander, and he was able to dodge around the snowballs he saw coming over his shoulder remarkably well. He even threw one back--although it hadn't hit. Then he lost his footing. He supposed it was only a matter of time anyway. The snow was too deep to really run through, for him. He caught his whole leg in a mound and had to stop so he could dislodge his foot without losing his shoe. That was when the distance between them was closed. He knew he was about to be caught, and probably attacked, and he turned to look over his shoulder with an anxious laugh. “W-Wait! I'm stu--”

 _Snow_.

Xander had wrapped his arm hard around Inigo's waist to knock him down into the snow. The impact was shocking if only because he fell on top of Xander's chest. He wasn't entirely sure how it happened, really. By all means he should have been squashed under him. Xander would have had to twist just right to make them land that way...and when it came down to it, it was just like Xander to protect the people he cared about, even from something as silly as himself. When they fell the snow formed walls around them, but some of it toppled over top Inigo and he shuddered and squirmed. “Alright! You win!” He nearly squawked, but his ears weren't met with victorious words, just with laughter. So much laughter.

He loved when Xander laughed because it always reminded him that he had this whole other side to him. He wasn't his job. He wasn't just a strict leader. He was this soft, gorgeous, _human_ man who laughed and loved just like the rest of them. It was a belly laugh, awkward and with a hint of a snort behind it, by all means it was an _ugly laugh_ but it was perfect and made Inigo laugh too, made it hard to breathe because the air was too cold and too thin for him. Inigo sort of regretted his thoughts earlier, that Xander was as too busy. He thought he was going stay inside... but Inigo was more than pleased that he'd made time for him. He always did, just like he did today.

When Inigo stopped laughing it was really because Xander looked like an angel. Inigo thought he looked incredible with snow flakes caught up in his hair and with his cheeks pink in the cold. He was so beautiful, and so handsome. Better than anyone in the world, honestly, far more precious than any woman's favor had ever been. Would it be so horrible to shift gears? He was already straddling Xander like that, sitting on him in the snow... Inigo leaned down and kissed him and it was awkward for a second because Xander had to swallow back the rest of his laughter. He kissed him once and their lips folded together. He kissed him a second time and Xander put his hand on the back of his head and pulled him closer. The third time they kissed Xander pushed him over and crawled over-top him.

It was so cold. The snow that was piled up around Inigo tickled his neck and he thought he was jealous of Xander's scarf, and he was _freezing_ _..._ but he felt so warm underneath Xander. He was always warm, and safe. It was the blink of an eye before Xander's tongue was sweeping along his lips and Inigo's hands were drifting up to weave into his beautiful, golden curls. Xander kissed him until he was breathless, until Inigo was light headed from the hot and the cold clashing together... and when Xander pulled his lips away, he still had to fight back a gentle chuckle from the earlier laughter.

“Are you alright?”

It sort of echoed in Inigo's mind as a question. Was he alright? Yes. He thought so. He wasn't in any immediate danger. He was maybe freezing to death and some snow had made it's way between his legs and his jeans, but he was alright. Physically.

On the inside he was a mess. He was swooning, obsessed. He had been since day one. He knew that a lot of times people had to work hard to get close to their soulmates, that it took years and years to become so perfectly close as they were supposed to be... but he didn't think he was one of those people. “I'm just in love with you, is all.” He said it softly. He thought he might have blushed but he'd certainly lost all feeling in his cheeks a while ago to the cold.

Xander looked flustered for just a second, but he had always been good at composing himself quickly. He didn't even try to hide his smile when he leaned down and kissed Inigo again. Slow kisses. Inigo wondered if the world was still turning outside of this little mound of snow they had fallen into. He sort of thought it stopped. He wanted to stay like this forever. Of course, making out in the snow forever would probably kill them both. Xander shifted back into a crouch, and tugged sharply on Inigo's hands to pull him up into a sitting position. When he did he also leaned forward, kissed his forehead, and he said “I love you, as well.”

Maybe there was something that electrified the air when two people said they loved each other for the first time. It was tense, emotionally charged, silent but... good. A good silent. It was too much for Inigo, though. He couldn't maintain it, and so he squeaked out the words “You would have to, to pierce your ear for me. Did you, um... did you decide what you wanted in return?”

“I had hoped,” Xander began, and he stood up all the way. Inigo pushed himself to his feet too, and began to dust snow off of himself. He hesitated when Xander finished that thought. “I had hoped you might show me your dance.”

“My dance.” He repeated, but he suspected he knew the one Xander was talking about. The dance from the night that they met.

“Your mother's dance.” Xander corrected himself, and Inigo sort of appreciated that effort. It wasn't his dance, he'd never perfected it, and it was nice for Xander to acknowledge Olivia. “I won't force you, of course.”

“No, I don't mind.” Inigo didn't. He really wanted to show Xander that dance, actually. It had always been private, just himself and his mother and his thoughts. It was meant to be shown only to people who were trusted, people who could keep you safe when you were most vulnerable. Inigo still didn't know for sure what Olivia meant by those words but... He knew that Xander had seen Inigo at his personal worst, once already. He thought he trusted him to keep him safe if it ever happened again. Xander would understand the value, the meaning behind the steps. And... maybe he would have an opinion on the strange effect it had on people. “Not now. Not where everyone can see, but I promise to show you soon.”

 

…

 

Not long after they went back inside the house Inigo was able to do what he did best in the winter: curl up by the fire. They had such a lovely fireplace in their home, and there were cushions all around it. Xander was working again. Inigo could tell because the thin frown had formed on his features and he was ultimately very focused on his phone. Work emails. Inigo hoped they were emails talking about how bad the snow was, and that no one should go to work.

He had only just raised the cup of hot chocolate to his lips to take a sip when Forrest bounded up to him with a little suit case of some sort in his hands. He set it down in front of him and then took a seat across from Inigo on the floor. “What's this?” He asked, and Forrest flashed him a smile and opened it up.

It folded out into a large organizer, and Inigo was surprised by how much stuff fit inside so effortlessly. It had hats and jewelry and gloves and hair accessories... “It's my beauty kit! Your hair is such a pretty color... I was hoping you would let me play dress-up with you..?” A quick glance at Xander and his tiny frown had morphed into a flicker of a smile. He went right back to reading his phone again, and Inigo blushed at the very thought of wearing all those silly accessories. Even more so, he blushed because Forrest thought his hair was a pretty color, and complimented him. Leo was nowhere to be seen in that moment. Inigo wondered how many times he had been subjected to being dressed up. He'd probably done it his fair share of times and then some.

How bad could it be? Forrest just wanted to put some jewelry on Inigo, and it wasn't as if any of it was permanent. He nodded his head and braced himself for a makeover. “Yes, alright. It's high time someone appreciated my good looks.” He reached out and booped Forrest on the nose with his fingertip, and the little blonde boy smiled bright just before he reached into the box to search for the perfect accessories.

Inigo set his mug of hot chocolate off to the side where there was little risk it would be spilled. When he did he noticed Leo (and had he manifested out of thin air?) set down a glass of water beside it, presumably for Forrest—but an equally safe distance away from the box of hair clips and bangles. After that Leo retreated to sit in a chair near Xander, and he took up reading a book.

The first things Forrest produced were tiaras. One of them was metal, with a gold finish and purple stones. Inigo imagined it wasn't real, because who would give something so expensive to a child? Truly he didn't know—this family didn't want for money by any means. The other tiara was made of silk flowers, and they were a sort of periwinkle blue. The little blonde held each one up in front of Inigo before he settled on the flower crown and draped it into Inigo's pink hair.

“Flowers look good on you.” Forrest hummed. “You could wear them all the time.”

“I'm sure they would look even better on you.” Inigo countered that compliment right back. After all, it was true, he thought. Within a matter of minutes Forrest had decorated Inigo with the tiara, a bracelet, two barrettes, and a necklace. Every now and then Leo glanced up to make sure Forrest wasn't misbehaving. Inigo really didn't mind, there was no harm in a few hair clips. Honestly he doubted his dignity could sink any lower in that household anyway. He was still haunted by their first meeting. Once in a while Xander would look up and immediately look back down and smile at his phone, like he thought that could cover up the fact that he thought Inigo looked ridiculous.

Xander had beautiful hair. Had he ever sat through dress-up with Forrest? Maybe he should have tried on a flower tiara or two. “Oh, goodness!” Forrest gasped from behind Inigo, shaking him out of his thoughts, and he blinked his attention away from Xander and turned his head to try and see Forrest over his shoulder.

“Is something wrong, Forrest?” He asked. What could be wrong? Maybe the clasp on the chain broke? But instead Forrest walked to Inigo's side and breathed out a sentence that came entirely unexpected.

“Your ring is so lovely!”

Inigo looked down at his mother's stone immediately and pulled his hand a little closer to himself, to admire it. He always thought it was very simple, but beautiful in that regard. He liked opals. He nodded his head in agreement with the boy. It was very lovely. “It was my mother's engagement ring.”

“You wear it every day?” Forrest asked, and he sat on his knees close to Inigo's hand so he could look at it closer. How did this child have such a distinct eye for fashion? More than once Inigo had seen Leo with his vests buttoned wrong or his collar flipped ridiculously. How could he have possibly spawned a child that was a super guru on the subject?

“It's very important to me.” Inigo answered the question, but he was sort of surprised by the way Forrest looked down with a tiny frown. Had he said something wrong? “None of that frowning. What's on your mind?”

“Oh I was just...” Forrest looked down at the floor. “I was just wondering if maybe... um... Never-mind, I'm sorry.”

Inigo reached out and straightened the floppy hat that had made it's way onto Forrest's head during this dress-up adventure. “Oh no, I very much mind. If there's one thing my mother taught me it's that you won't succeed if you never try. Asking doesn't hurt.” Usually. There were a few women in his life who had been a little violent about rejecting him. Namely Severa. Twice. “Out with it.”

Forrest wrenched his hands together anxiously, but then that smile came back and he nodded his head, clearly taking the advice that Olivia once gave Inigo. “I wondered if you... would let me try it on?”

That was not the question Inigo expected. Xander looked up quickly enough that it caught Inigo's attention, and he met those pretty red eyes only to see concern clouding them. Inigo worried if it was obvious on his face that the idea of handing over the ring bothered him. It must have, because Leo also spoke up. “Forrest! You should know better than...”

“No! No, it's...” Inigo interrupted because he had been the one to encourage Forrest. What did it say about putting yourself out there and trying to get what you wanted if you didn't reap any benefit? His mother would have been alright with this. He shook his head slowly, but he smiled a strained smile at Forrest and began to twist the ring off his finger. It took very little effort, but as he held it out for Forrest he hesitated. “This is very, very precious to me. You may try it on, but will you please sit right here with me, and give it right back when you're through?”

“I promise! I won't move an inch.” Forrest situated himself on the floor across from Inigo and he took the ring out of his hand. Inigo watched (and he sure tried not to look like he was nervous) while Forrest slid it onto his petite hand. He was still young, so there was no surprise when he giggled and said “It's too big for my ring finger.”

It wasn't too big by much, though. Forrest slid it onto his thumb, and held it up to show Inigo. “It _almost_ fits here!” Almost, but it was still just a tad loose. Inigo didn't know why he was nervous. He didn't think anything horrible could happen to his ring while Forrest had it, not while he was sitting right in front of him, or while Xander or Leo were both watching (and Inigo knew they had eyes on Forrest, now). “I wear a 5 ½ ring on my ring finger, usually.” Forrest went on, casually, like he didn't sense the tension in the air.

And Inigo laughed, because he, somehow, didn't expect that. “You know your ring size?” He clarified, “That's amazing! I wouldn't have known what a ring size even was at your age.”

Clearly he said something wrong because Forrest's whole face fell into shock, his mouth even fell open. “What? How? Don't you ever accessorize? Everyone should know his ring size, Inigo. Shoe size too! It's very important. You do know yours... right?”

“Well I know my shoe size.” Inigo tried. He smiled again, this time something sheepish, because he could almost tell his words were going to cause disappointment for the child. “I'm sorry to tell you that I have no idea what my ring size is. I only know my mother's ring fits, is all. I guess I just don't accessorize as much as you.”

“But you need to know! It's—er...” Forrest looked like his feathers were incredibly ruffled in that moment. He sucked in a breath and when he breathed out he fixed one of his curls and adjusted the hat on his head. His normal, calm smile returned seconds later. “How will you ever be stylish if you don't know the basics?”

“W-well I don't really wear much in the way of jewelry anyway...”

“Nonsense! Please, let me help? I can help you learn your ring size.”

Inigo looked down at his mother's ring again, still in place on Forrest's thumb. He wanted it back, really. He didn't want to figure out his ring size, why did it matter? He wasn't planning to replace that ring any time soon. It seemed like useless trivia to know. But he couldn't disappoint Forrest, he didn't really deserve that. He was only trying to be nice.

He was still aware of Leo and Xander watching him, waiting to step in if they needed to, if he sent them some kind of signal. Forrest was just so sweet, all the time... Inigo took in a deep breath through his nose and exhaled through his words. “Alright. Help away: what are you planning to do?”

Forrest tapped his chin in his thought, something that Camilla frequently did. He picked up many of his habits from his aunts and uncles, Inigo guessed. “Well I haven't brought my ring sizer with me, but I have a few rings here. Hopefully one of them will be your size, and then we'll know.” He reached into one of the smaller compartments of his little dress-up case, and he pulled two rings out. “Since this ring almost fits me, let's start with a couple of smaller ones. Will you try these two?”

Inigo just wanted his ring back, but he reached out and took the first one from Forrest. It was a yellow gold band, and it had a large ruby solitaire in it, and Inigo wondered if it was real. It looked expensive enough. He slid the ring up to the second joint of his finger, but it was a little tight and he didn't want it to get stuck. “This is too small.” He said, and slipped it back off to return it to Forrest. “Where did you get these rings?”

“Aunt Camilla and Aunt Elise give me their old jewelry sometimes. Sometimes Father buys them for me, from people who don't want them anymore. I love to play dress up with them! This is fun, isn't it?” He asked, and he passed the next ring to Inigo. That one was silver, a little less valuable, and there were three purple stones mounted in it. Inigo was instantly relieved because it fit just right on his hand. He didn't think this game was fun anymore, not really. He wanted his ring back.

He still found the strength to smile for Forrest. “Yes, absolutely. This one fits just perfectly, too.” He was quick to slide it off and pass it back to Forrest. “I... may I have my ring back, now?”

Forrest looked surprised. Like maybe he had forgotten all about the ring he'd promised to return right away. He nodded his head quickly and returned it, and Inigo thought all of his stress melted when it was safely back in place on his hand. Forrest looked at the ring that Inigo had previously tried on and nodded his head. He set it back into the case. “So you're a seven. Interesting...”

Forrest was reaching out for his water when it truly struck Inigo that was a weird thing to say. He had only just taken a small sip from the glass when Inigo asked “Why is that interesting?” The question wasn't even all the way out of his mouth when Forrest jolted and the whole cup of water tipped over onto Inigo's front. It was hard not to shriek honestly, because the water was _icy._ Why was he drinking cold water? Why not something warm, like the rest of them? His shirt clung to his chest and there was an ungraceful damp spot on his jeans as well, and Forrest looked absolutely mortified.

“Oh no!” He gasped, and he covered his mouth with his tiny hands. “I'm so sorry Inigo! Are you alright?”

“J-Just a little wet, is all, I...”

“You just can't stay in those clothes! Oh, I'm so sorry!” He turned to look over his shoulder at Xander. Inigo thought Xander had a look of absolute shock on his face. Leo, alternatively, looked somewhat amused. “Uncle Xander..? Do we have any clothes here he can borrow?”

 

…

 

“I'll have your clothes washed and dried for you, for tomorrow.” Xander spoke those words while he sorted through his closet. Inigo was standing not too far behind him, with a towel hugged to his chest. He was still in his wet clothes, still shivering, but he was distracted by Xander's room. It was very nice, it had it's own bathroom coming off of it, he swore it was the kind of room that princes in castles had. Everything was very regal. “You didn't have to humor Forrest like that, you know.”

“Oh, he just wanted to look at the ring, it was...” Inigo started the sentence, but it caught in his throat. It wasn't fine. He laughed nervously. “It was horrible. I thought it would be alright, but it wasn't. But... Forrest seemed happy, so I suppose my suffering was worth it.”

“Yes,” Xander turned around and approached Inigo with a thin sweater draped over his arm, and he nodded his head. “I think you made his day. Unfortunately...you'll have to wear this. Leo's clothes would fit you best, but he hasn't lived here in years. He doesn't keep any clothes here anymore.”

Inigo's eyes shifted down to the sweater on his arm, and he set the towel aside to reach for it. “Aw, are you worried I won't look good in your shirt?” By all means, he would look ridiculous in that sweater. Xander was much taller, his body was bulkier. It was probably two sizes too big, at least. Realistically it didn't matter. Inigo sort of thought wearing some of his boyfriend's clothes was his prize for enduring that gentle torture Forrest provided. He sort of hoped it smelled like him. He also hoped it wasn't obvious on his face that he was happy about this turn of events.

“I'm more worried I won't find any pants to fit you.” Xander argued. Inigo supposed that was a fair thing to worry about, because the answer was no, he wouldn't. They wore very different sized pants.

That crisis was resolved easily enough. “It's getting late anyway. Maybe I'll just hide out in here for the rest of the night and forgo the pants altogether?” In his underwear, he meant. They weren't wet, in spite of the spill to his jeans. Still, he caught the error of his sentence late, and he coughed to try and cover up his embarrassment. “Or—well I don't mean... I don't have to ground myself to _your room_ , by any means. Wherever you want me to...”

“Would you like to stay here?”

Inigo's heart raced a little faster than before. He'd wanted to sleep in Xander's room all along, but he'd been unsure how to properly ask for that sort of thing. Here Xander was asking for him, and all he had to do was say yes (because he sure did want to). But instead of saying yes his skin turned pink and his hands got a little clammy with nerves and he gripped the sweater in his hands way too tightly. Why was this making him nervous? He was having a rough day. He wasn't agreeing to have sex with Xander by any means, they would just be sharing a bed for a night. One night. He was flustered... but he nodded his head silently and swiftly.

He wanted to, really.

He only watched Xander long enough for him to nod, then he turned around to face the opposite direction. Maybe so he could change his shirt with some sense of modesty? He wasn't sure what difference it really made, considering he was going to spend the rest of the evening in his underwear. He shrugged the jacket off of his shoulders, and then he peeled his t-shirt off too. His skin felt wet underneath, it was just so soaked through. If he didn't know Forrest was an actual angel he would have thought he did it on purpose. Who spills an _entire glass_ like that?

He wasn't sure where else to put them so he just tossed the wet clothes on the floor gently, off to the side. Then he began fumbling with the sweater to find the bottom, the opening. It was about then that the hair on the back of his neck stood up, and he knew Xander was closer to him than before. He heard his voice close to his ear. “I had no idea you had tattoos.”

Inigo's shoulders tensed. He supposed this made it very clear that Xander had been watching him change, but he was more shocked to feel his hand (and it was so warm on his iced skin) trace down the middle of his back, along the pattern of the tattoo. “Blue flowers. Are those meaningful?”

Inigo nodded his head and kept his eyes trained on the knitted pattern of the shirt in his hands. The tattoo on his back started just above the small of his back. It was a vine of blue flowers that spread up and to his shoulder blades. They weren't too far from the shade of the flower crown he had been wearing before, for Forrest. “They're morning glories. They were my mother's favorite.” 

Morning glories were very meaningful flowers. Inigo was very aware that they often represented mortality. He didn't choose those blooms because his mother passed away. He chose them because she loved them. She kept them in the house any chance she got. There was also a sense of humor to them. He smiled and lifted his head a little bit, and began to tell that story. “It's also a little bit of an irony because I hate mornings so much and— _Ahh..._ ”

He hesitated in what he was saying. What he was saying before didn't really matter anymore. Xander's hand once trailed over the vines of flowers on his back, but while Inigo spoke he slid his hand down to his hip bone, and it came to rest where he could just brush his thumb over an entirely different marking. Inigo thought his skin burned white hot where Xander's finger brushed over his soulmate marking. It was still there, of course. Precise, perfect script—Xander's own handwriting—that spelled out each letter of the phrase “ _Oh, thank God._ ”

Xander pressed his palm flat against his skin there and Inigo forgot all about getting dressed for a minute. He leaned backwards into Xander until his back pressed into his chest and Xander's chin hooked over the top of his head. He lowered the shirt a little bit because his arms dangled in front of him. He felt sort of vulnerable, like that. In an awkward, good way. There was some kind of crazy soulmate voodoo going on. Maybe Owain was right to put stock in the belief in magic. Surely science couldn't explain _this_.

Eventually, and Inigo wasn't sure how long they just _stood there_ , Xander shifted to put his lips close to his ear—close enough that they brushed against it, and he whispered “You're shaking. Put on that sweater.”

It was the farthest thing from what Inigo wanted to do in that moment, but he obeyed. He was high, he thought. High on that strange touch on his hip, high on the earlier words of love they swapped, high on the reality that he was in a pretty committed relationship with someone and it was going so well that they _loved him_. The sweater served to warm his skin. He stepped out of the damp jeans as well, so he was left in a pair of (remarkably dry) boxer briefs that nearly went unseen considering the sweater draped down to his thighs, almost.

He turned around and held out his arms like he was putting himself on display as a model. “Well? How do I look?” He joked, of course, but Xander frowned his tiny, half-worried frown.

“You're still shaking.”

“I'm still cold.” Inigo crossed his arms. “Great job focusing on the negative.”

“Shall I focus on something else?” Xander asked. He took a step forward and slid his hand up to hold Inigo's face. Right away Inigo leaned into the touch. At that point Xander could have touched him anywhere. Inigo was sure of it. He'd stripped away his reservations with his clothes. “Perhaps on the beautiful, half-naked man standing in my bedroom?”

Xander leaned down to kiss him. It reminded Inigo of their kiss in the snow, because somehow Xander was always warm in spite of the fact that Inigo was plagued by cold. He smiled wide against Xander's lips and muttered something to the effect of what a great thing to focus on that was, but it sort of got lost in the translation because they were kissing. Inigo had only just hooked his elbows around Xander's neck when he slid his hand up under that sweater, again, and overlaid his hand on that marking for the second time.

Caught up in a kiss like that, Inigo's legs did nothing to hold him up. Xander easily walked him back to the bed and they fell over it. Xander fell over _him_.

Inigo had waited his whole life for a soulmate and while he had often bitterly joked that it had better be worth it, he was happy to report it was far beyond worth the wait. Xander kissed with all the pent up passion and love he had to give, love that he often held in to keep up his successful facades. He kissed with a strange sense of grace that was caught halfway between desperation and adoration. Inigo hardly meant to moan (but it came out anyway).

He hadn't planned for the night to take this turn, but with every kiss his skin felt hotter and the touches between them felt electrified. Inigo shifted his hands to tangle up his fingers into Xander's hair and those pretty curls but... a noise slipped out of Xander's mouth that was a little closer to pain. A tiny noise that he swallowed back, tried to ignore, but Inigo heard it and tilted his mouth away just enough to end those kisses because he realized he'd brushed his thumb against his ear, against a brand new earring.

He was embarrassed to admit his breathing was uneven. His words came out breathless, but he whispered “I'm sorry. Did that hurt?”

“I'm fine.”

Xander said it quick enough. Inigo imagined he wanted to resume what they were doing. Who could blame him? Inigo took the opportunity to kiss Xander's ear. Not directly on the piercing, but close enough. “Poor baby,” he teased. Xander smirked in a way that Inigo thought was good. It probably meant good things. He pushed Inigo back down into the sheets and he mouthed open, hot kisses against his neck. Those kisses were long, they ended in little nips. Inigo's hips raised up to meet Xander's involuntarily, embarrassingly, but Xander met the action with fervor.

Inigo was reminded how perfect Xander was for him. Everything he did, really. He spoiled him with affection and little touches and understanding and made him feel like he was worth it, like every person who ever rejected him had missed out on something amazing...

...And then he blew a raspberry right on the spot where Inigo's neck and shoulder came together. Brown eyes that had once been mostly lidded flew open entirely in shock and Inigo shoved his hands hard against Xander's shoulders. “ _Nooo!_ ” He both laughed and whined. Xander let up, he leaned back just slightly and laid his forehead against Inigo's. He laughed that same golden laughter from before, albeit quieter. Inigo loved it.

He loved him so much. He loved that he was there, right then. He loved his laughter and that he was supporting his weight and panting over Inigo and that he was smiling down at him like he was the most important thing in the world. Nothing could have made that moment more perfect, nothing at all.

Xander's cellphone began to ring. It was a split second. An instant, really. One blink and the happy face was clouded with concern. Xander furrowed his brows and leaned off of the bed to reach into the pocket of his pants. Inigo sat up, too. He sat on the edge of the bed and watched Xander look at the caller, watched him bite hard on his lip. “...Xander..?”

“It's my father. I... I need to take this call.”

“Oh—it...” Inigo meant to say it didn't matter. He wasn't going to be offended that Xander had to stop making out with him to take a call from his own father. Of course, Inigo knew that Xander's father only called to bother him with work. This wouldn't be a call to chat about the weather.

But Inigo didn't get to say anything. Xander swooped down and caught his lips in a chaste kiss. He said “I love you very much, Inigo.” But then he backed away and answered the phone, and Inigo thought he sounded very professional for someone having a conversation with their own father. Xander leaned down and scooped up Inigo's wet clothes from the floor when he left the room, and he closed the door behind him.

Inigo sighed and flopped back onto the bed. It sort of sucked that they were interrupted, because he thought he _really_ liked the direction that had been going. It wasn't the end of the world, though. In fact, Inigo had a stupid grin on his face, and he covered his face with both of his hands to try and cool his dopey smile and bright blush. He was just so _happy._

 _He said it again_ , he thought, and he couldn't have been more ecstatic. _He loves me!_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leo is a scheming mastermind and forrest is but his beautiful pawn


	5. 5. Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Night of the Christmas Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for real i was watching sailor moon while i edited so typos may still happen whoops write it off as party shenanigans.

_Christmas_

 

“Hurry, hurry, hurry!”

The blatantly rushed voice belonged to the sweet Elise, and Inigo found himself smiling down at the cookie he was working with. When he brought Owain with him that day it was to enjoy a party... not to become Elise's impromptu servants. Still, there he was pressing little decorative, edible pearls down in place to be buttons on sugar cookie snowmen. He couldn't have told her no if he tried, really. Elise was at his side, covered in flour and icing and food dyes. She was such a mess he thought there was just no way she would get cleaned up before the party unless she showered—which mean she really _was_ on a time crunch. The party was supposed to begin in just forty minutes...

Inigo cast a glance to his left and looked at Owain. He was standing over a tray of beautiful snowman cookies (the fruit of Elise's labor) and holding a little hand-held fan over them, doing his best to help the icing set faster. Inigo wondered if it was really more effective than putting them in the fridge... but Elise didn't seem to think they had time for the fridge.

When Elise met Owain she didn't have time for a real greeting. She interrupted him midway through to pull them both to the kitchen to help her. She had, it seemed, been working very hard to finish a project from school (it would be due upon returning to class after Christmas Break) and the time got away from her. As a result they were all three frantically finishing up the cookies, and they were limited to idle chit chat. Elise was piping the icing on the snowmen to draw their faces and hats. Inigo had noticed one hat that was a little bubbly—specifically because Elise had grown very excited when she realized she had read one of Owain's books. Owain was remarkably tame in his excitement, too.

But why wouldn't Elise love Owain from the start? Inigo was certain that all of Xander's family would... because they would (likely tonight) find out Owain was Niles' soulmate... and they would surely love him just the way they loved Inigo. He set another snowman on the tray and Owain moved the fan over to blow on that one for a while. It was about that time that Inigo asked Elise “Where is everybody?”

Elise looked up and Inigo caught a glimpse of her tongue peeking out the corner of her mouth while she concentrated on piping hats. “Well Camilla is wrapping some presents. She's so good at it, she always makes them look beautiful! Like in a movie! The only ones she doesn't get to wrap are the ones for her, obviously. She wants the presents to be under the tree so it looks nice while everyone is here!” Inigo nodded his head. Yes, that made sense. Camilla was beautiful in everything that she did, and Inigo had no trouble believing that she was talented with wrapping too. He'd never been fabulous at it, but he was able to wrap gifts well enough to get the job done.

“Xander had some weird work stuff come up.” Elise said. Inigo wasn't at all surprised. Xander had been getting more and more wrapped up with work as the month dragged on... and Inigo just hoped it would ease once the Christmas season was over... although he had no idea if it would or not. “He was really quiet about it. He's in his office though, and he didn't lock it (I checked) so he won't be mad if you go see him.” Just then Elise sucked in a gasp, like she'd forgotten how to breathe, and Inigo flinched away from her when she shot him a dirty look. “LATER. You can go see him LATER. You have to help me carry cookies first!”

Honestly it was almost scary. It wasn't as if he had walked away or something! Owain chuckled from beside him. Inigo smiled at her and then he set another cookie onto the tray to set. “I would never leave a lovely damsel in distress, Elise. You don't have to shout!”

Together they made quick work of the snowman cookies. The trays were filled up, and Inigo honestly wondered how many cookies she'd _baked_. Would there truly be this many people at the party? There were dozens! Finally when the last cookie was passed off, Elise clapped her hands together. “Okay!" she took a deep breath, "Okay, great! Let's take this batch out first so it looks all nice!”

Elise scooped up a tray in both of her hands and then started walking to the big family room. Inigo picked up just one tray, too, but he noticed Owain had one in each hand and he hesitated in his steps a second. “I know Elise seems innocent but I don't imagine she'll hesitate to kill you if you drop one of those, Owain.”

Owain could not have looked more put out by that comment. He both scoffed and rolled his eyes while he followed behind Inigo (clearly unsure where to go) and they walked the distance to the cookie-destination. “I waited tables all through college, remember? Owain Dark cannot be bested by a mere tray of fell pastries.”

“They're innocent snowmen!” Inigo grinned at him over his shoulder.

The living room was decorated lavishly. It looked more like Christmas than any ad he had ever seen, than any cliche hallmark movie. Pine swags and velvet ribbons hung above the windows, there were ornaments and stockings all over the mantle, and the true star of the show was the _tree_. Inigo hesitated in the doorway, and so did Owain, and he heard the blonde's voice whisper behind him. “Mom and Ma are rich—where was _this_ our whole lives?”

“Shh!” Inigo hissed, “They raised us to be modest.”

“Right, but that tree has to be twelve feet tall. That's almost two of me! How do you think they got it in here?” Owain asked. He walked past Inigo to set the trays in his hands down. Elise had a table decorated in all sorts of colorful baubles. There was already an array of food and drink on it, but she made room for her trays of cookies. Inigo hesitated in the doorway a second longer. That was... a good question. He had no idea how they got that tree in there. Would it have even fit through a door? It was like a ship in a bottle...

Forrest and Sophie were dressed up in sweet, fluffy red dresses. They didn't quite match, but they complimented each other well. They were draping ornaments all over the lower branches of the tree. Corrin was adding a few more decorations to the upper branches. She was lovely as well, in a deep green dress that came just to her knees. Her normally-loose hair was also twisted up into a messy bun on her head. Inigo might have swooned a little for her, but he had cookies to deliver safely.

“I'm sure I tested these lights.” Silas said. Inigo noticed that he was crouched near the wall with Leo. Silas had on the absolute ugliest sweater Inigo had ever seen. Surely by intention. He had the cord to the lights that wound around the tree in his hand. Leo groaned at him and took the cord from him, only to plug it into the wall and have nothing happen.

“ _I'm_ sure you don't want to own up to your mistake.” Leo countered. He looked up at the tree (and so did Inigo) and there were so many lights wound into it. The other decorations, the garland and tinsel and ornaments... they were already up, too. Taking the lights off would be an impossible task. Their bickering was halfway gentle and halfway bitter. Inigo honestly wasn't sure if they were truly mad or not. Likely, Leo was planning some kind of strategy to light the tree another way... but before he could voice an idea Owain was joining them.

Inigo wasn't surprised. Owain hardly believed in personal space and he surely didn't understand what 'none of your business' really meant. He crouched next to the outlet and, wordlessly, reached out to press the 'reset' button on the panel. The lights came on. “Oh.” Silas murmured, and Leo looked a little shamed too. Inigo thought it was funny that Owain could make them look like a couple of fools that quickly. Elise watched too—her eyes brightened by the twinkle from the tree—as Leo and Owain both stood up.

Leo reached out his hand to shake Owain's. “Alright...” He said, “Thanks for that. I guess I should ask the name of the Christmas Crusader?”

Owain grinned big at Leo and Inigo was already rolling his eyes and trying to contain the second hand embarrassment of what was about to happen. Owain struck a pose, one Inigo saw frequently enough when the idiot introduced himself to strangers, and he said “I am _Owain Dark_! A scion hero come to pave the way to a bright and merry Christmas!” Inigo looked up at Elise when he heard the sound of a cookie falling to the floor. She caught herself before she dropped any others, but she turned her attention away from Owain to stare directly at Inigo. She _lit up_. She looked so incredibly happy in that moment, and right away she mouthed just one, single name to Inigo. _Niles_.

Inigo watched her lips form the name before he held up just one finger to his own lips to shush her. Even though he begged her silence, he nodded his head yes, for her. Yes, this was the owner of the silly words written all down Niles' back. Elise set down the tray she was holding and started bouncing in place, before a giggle finally erupted from her throat.

Leo and Owain turned to glance at her, Inigo saw, but Elise seemed to reel in her excitement when they did. “Oh! Um! Owain! Christmas hero! Will you help me get the rest of the cookies out of the oven?”

“Of course! No snowman deserves a crispy fate!”

For what it was worth, Inigo thought when Owain left with Elise to return to the kitchen, he made her laugh. He turned back around to glance at Leo, and he realized that all of the adults in that room were staring after the doorway that Owain had just left through. Inigo blinked away confusion, only to replace it with a smile and a tiny bow. “My brother, ladies and gents.”

 

…

 

Niles wasn't at the party yet and that was sort of disappointing to Inigo. He would have thought if Xander wasn't working (sort of) that Niles wouldn't have to drag himself to an office on Christmas Eve-Eve, but Niles' schedule never ceased to confuse Inigo. It was driving him absolutely mad, waiting. He wanted them to meet—he wanted Owain to see the person that his 'predetermined fate' was matching him with. He had been holding on to the knowledge for so long... he thought he would explode if they somehow evaded each other that night.

Inigo had seen Elise a few times. She was positively bubbly and she'd managed to clean herself up and slip into a fluffy skirt with lots of petticoats before the party began. Owain was at Inigo's side when he finally caught sight of Camilla, and she was gorgeous as always. She approached with a sway in her hips and a glossy smile on her lips. “Here, both of you.” Camilla held out two glasses, and both Owain and Inigo accepted one. “Your hands are dreadfully empty, boys. Oh, and be careful how close you stand together. There are a few mistletoe bunches hidden around here. Imagine poor Xander's disappointment if you're caught under one with someone else, Inigo?”

“He—er---He's my...” Camilla blew him a kiss while she walked away. Inigo thought she... was already drunk? She had to have at least some liquor in her. “He's my brother!” He called after her, but he sighed because he knew he was being ignored. He took a drink from the glass without really considering it. He wasn't even sure if it was alcoholic or not... he couldn't taste it if it was. It was certainly very good, by all means.

“She's... interesting.” Owain thought out loud. Inigo nodded his head. Camilla certainly was interesting, that was true. She was far from the only person drinking, that night.

There were a lot of people at the party. Friends of all the siblings, the crowd varied in age too. Inigo wondered... how they were making sure Elise's high school friends didn't drink. He supposed that the maids and butlers were the ones controlling most of the drinks. He met a few people who knew Xander from work. Inigo had never been into Xander's office building, and so seeing other people who worked there was... interesting. He supposed part of him just expected it to be Xander sitting in a jail cell with paperwork stacked up around him.

She introduced herself as his secretary. She was _really cute_. Her hair had this ombre thing to it, it was both blue and pink... and Inigo thought if Xander worked with that every day then maybe he truly hadn't been fazed by his own soulmate having pink hair. She said her name was Peri. Inigo sort of got a weird vibe from her. He thought she was cute, yes, but... he also thought she could probably have killed him with her bare hands. He also was pretty sure that whatever Camilla had given him to drink hadn't been virgin. That... didn't stop him from taking another glass when a maid came by to offer one. 

He had no idea where Xander was. He really hoped that he wasn't still cooped up in his office and missing his own family's party. He noticed Leo and Silas off in a corner, talking avidly about _something_. Owain noticed too, because he left Inigo's side for a while to go see what they were so excited about _this time_. Not five seconds after Owain disappeared from sight Niles entered right into Inigo's line of vision and he was _furious_. He'd been waiting for Niles to show up all evening so he could introduce him to Owain, and he hadn't seen him at all... but there he was already half drunk and with some eggnog in his hand.

When had he even arrived? “Niles!” He called out, to catch his attention. He was surprised though because instead of Niles approaching him, Camilla revisited him. She was awkwardly close to him, he thought. “Oh—Camilla, I...” She pressed a tiny kiss to his cheek and he stopped mid-sentence. He certainly turned the color of a damned tomato, too. “Er...”

“Oh, look... you're so sweet when you're flustered. Here, darling, take this.” She took a step back and when she did she pushed a fresh drink into his hand. Seamlessly she took his empty glass and she chuckled as she walked away. “You've barely had anything to drink at all!"

“I...”

“She's probably drunk.” Niles said. Inigo jumped and turned to the side to face him. He took a drink of his new drink, and nodded his head. He thought she was, too, but she was far from right about him having little to drink. He was sure this was his forth glass... and he'd also taken a sip or two of one of Owain's drinks, because it was a warm cider. With some kind of cinnamon whiskey in it. It had been a little stronger than Inigo preferred, really. “You look a little drunk, too.”

“I'm not drunk.” Inigo argued the point immediately, but he didn't know that it was a very _valid_ argument. He hoped to himself that maybe he wasn't drunk. Just a little tipsy and... in the Christmas spirit of things! He shook his head no, and he willed that to be true. “I don't get drunk.”

“Oh?” Niles asked, and he swirled around the drink in his cup. “Why not?”

“I'm the worst drunk.” Inigo shrugged. “Things get really weird, I'm a _horrible_ drunk. Drunk. Not drunk. I'm not drunk.” He sputtered over the word a few times. Not because he _was drunk_ , certainly not... he hoped. He sputtered because... well maybe he had just said it too many times?

“I've seen Leo drunk.” Niles murmured in response. Inigo wondered what that meant. Was Leo a horrible drunk? “I don't buy it. I think you're drunk. Almost drunk, if not. Prove your sobriety to me.”

“Ha!” He laughed just a little too loud, but reeled his voice in to an acceptable level shortly after. “Prove it? And just how do I do that?”

“How about a contest?” Oh, a contest. Inigo honestly was a big fan of friendly competition, so he already liked the direction it was going... but the moment Niles explained his idea to him he admittedly liked it even more. “Do a little flirting... see who gets the most people to flirt back?”

A flirting contest was exactly the sort of contest that Inigo frequently lost at, if he was honest, but it was also the sort of contest he liked the most. It was fun. He almost had the mind to agree to it, but... he shook his head no. “I can't, I... Xander. And you shouldn't! You, uh,”

“Hey! Don't spoil my fun. I don't have a pretty blonde 'prince charming' to call my own. I have every intention to drink my way into someone's pants tonight.”

“How... blunt.” Inigo shook his head. He wanted to introduce them, but when he glanced off to the corner where Owain had been with Silas and Leo before... well _none of them_ were there. He had no idea where Owain was. He was getting sick of this. Why were the fates so against the two of them meeting that night? With a tad more frustration than necessary he put back the rest of the glass Camilla gave him. Only after he had done so did he wrinkle his nose and stare into the empty glass. “I don't think that was sangria.”

Niles sputtered out a laugh. “You've been drinking it the whole time we've been talking. You're just noticing?”

“I don't... I guess?” Inigo watched while Niles took the glass from him and sniffed it skeptically.

“Smells like Xander's reserve. So no flirting contest? What Xander doesn't know won't hurt him.” Inigo wondered if Xander would even _care_ really. Camilla always said he would be jealous if Inigo flirted with other people, but he had never seemed to be the jealous type. But Inigo just didn't  _want to_... the more he thought about flirting the more he just sort of wanted to find his boyfriend and flirt with  _him_.

“No contest.” Inigo decided. “I'm not drunk anyway. Just take my word.”

“Oh absolutely not.” Niles snickered. “You just drank an entire glass of wine and had no idea what it was. You're drunk. But I'll spare you the shame of losing to me anyway. If you'll excuse me... I think I'll chat up that woman over _there_... She looks fierce.”

Inigo glanced in the direction he was gesturing. She was very pretty. As busty as Camilla, and just as scantily clad. Blonde hair with a big, innocent bow in the back... But Niles was right. She did look fierce. That was a good word for it. “She looks like she'll slap you.”

“Mm, here's hoping.”

Inigo literally couldn't form the words to a retort before Niles wandered off to try and get himself slapped or laid or both. He sighed and took about four steps before he bumped into Owain again. Fury crawled up his throat in the form of an indignant shout. “Where were you! I was looking—Owain! You just missed Niles!”

“So?”

So? So Inigo was _trying so hard_ to introduce them! They were _soulmates_! He just wanted to shout it at him, too, hardly contained the words before he decided that wasn't fair. They shouldn't know in advance. Part of the magic was making the realization for oneself...and he had bigger problems than playing cupid. “...So I need your help.” He landed on that, instead. 

“Anything.” Owain blurted that out right away. His voice was serious, but then shifted into concern. “Wait. Do I need a mask? Yeah. Anything.”

“What?” Inigo groaned and shoved his hand through his hair. Xander had told him that many people liked to drink at this party, but... he hadn't really thought about Camilla all but force feeding people spiked drinks. “Are _you_ drunk?”

“A little.” Owain held up his hand and pinched his fingers together. “Not that drunk. Sev wouldn't have cut me off yet.”

Was that the scale he judged his alcohol intake on? How much Severa would let him have before she decided he was too far gone? Inigo pinched the bridge of his nose. “That's just... grand. I need your help because I think _I'm_ drunk... and I don't want to make a fool of myself.” Traditionally when he drank he behaved like an idiot, after all. Owain usually sheltered him from making the _worst_ choices... but Owain was clearly not signed up to be the designated 'friend' that evening.

“Oh yeah,” Owain nodded his head. “You are definitely drunk.”

“W-What? How do you know?”

The question was answered before Owain said it out loud, because the blonde lifted up their joined hands. “You're holding my hand.” He said, and he let out a quite laugh.

Inigo stared at their fingers. They were woven together, that didn't bother him. What bothered him was that he hadn't noticed and... what happened to the empty cup he had been holding? He had absolutely no idea when he set that down. In fact... had he ever taken it back from Niles? _Oh God,_ he thought, and a hint of color drained from his face. _Was I holding hands with Niles?_

“I don't want Xander to see me drunk!” He thought he half whined it. He didn't like the fact that he was sort of aware of the sound of his own voice. “I say really stupid things Owain, _please_ don't let me make a fool of myself.”

“You sound fine to me right now—oh, cool! Thanks!” Owain had to stop midway through his sentence because a butler with a tray offered him a glass of the eggnog Niles had earlier. Owain managed to smile and act like a polite adult, and when the man left he took a sip and scrunched up his face in a way that made Inigo smile (in spite of his concerns). “Woah that is like pure— _whew_ that was strong. Hey, if you're so worried about it... just don't drink anything else, okay? You'll be fine.”

Inigo didn't think that was true. He thought he was going to look like an idiot... but Xander walked past him and Inigo didn't want to miss his opportunity to spend time with him. He'd been looking for him for a while now, after all... He waved at Owain and then ducked through the crowded room until he was falling into step at Xander's side. “How are you doing?”

Xander smiled at him. Inigo felt warm and tingly all over and he honestly wasn't sure if it was because of that smile or the fact that he had _way_ more than his low tolerance would allow for. Xander didn't seem to have had anything to drink, though. He stood and walked just as perfectly as normal, and his voice sounded just as it always did... He said “I'm doing just fine. I was about to go looking for you. Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Um...”

“Hm? Inigo?”

Inigo wrapped both of his arms around Xander's arm to pull himself closer. He didn't want to get separated in the crowd or something, and Xander was weaving through people too easily. Didn't he see Inigo struggling not to stumble? He wasn't his normal, graceful self. “Drunk. I—I'm drunk.”

Xander wrapped a warm arm around Inigo's waist, but he finally came to a stop. Inigo wasn't sure why. Maybe just to talk with him? He chuckled at him. “It happens to the best of us.”

“No I do... stupid things. I don't...” Xander combed his hand through Inigo's hair and he stopped talking. His hand was warm and Inigo liked the whole action. This was good—truly and very good. He was alright, anyway. He hadn't done anything stupid yet, and... he was hopeful that if he followed Owain's advice and didn't drink anymore he wouldn't do anything he would regret.

 

…

 

It was another twenty minutes before it finally happened. Inigo was still glued to Xander's side, and he'd been getting to know a few of Xander's friends and coworkers, but he would have recognized Owain's yelp anywhere. It was sort of programmed into him to drop everything and look for the source. Owain wasn't far away, Inigo could easily see him from where he was standing.

Luckily the yelp was far from a noise of pain. Owain had (presumably) bumped into Niles. Or maybe Niles bumped into him? In any case the drink Owain had been holding spilled down his front. Miraculously... just Owain—not on Niles, not on the floor, not on a passerby. Inigo squeezed Xander's hand and tugged gently to get his attention, and Xander turned away from his conversation to instead look at the tiny scene unfolding.

Owain froze only momentarily when he spilled that drink on himself. It only took a second or two to process it, Inigo guessed. Right after he laughed nervously, and he said “Aha! Sincerest regrets, friend, but I suppose it was the will of powers beyond my own that I should know you now. You're alright, or were your clothes tainted as well?”

Oh it was good. Inigo thought that Owain's drunken monologues were far better than his regular ones... or maybe they just sounded better to Inigo because he was also often drunk when he heard them? A quick glance in Elise's direction and she was mouthing along with the words that tumbled out of Owain's mouth—Niles _had_ said that she had the marking memorized. She was practically bouncing in place... and Inigo couldn't blame her.

“Are you _shitting me_?” Niles said, and Inigo's heart fluttered in his chest. Their whole lives, those words were right there on Owain's arm. Maribelle's discontent with them, Owain having to cover it up for school, it all came back in a magnificent rush. Inigo watched Owain sober up just a touch at the comment. He looked right down at his arm, pulled up his sleeve, and looked over the marking himself... and maybe for half a second he hadn't believed it? Inigo could remember feeling disbelief and a wave of about eighty other emotions too, when he met Xander.

Niles looked down at the marking too, since Owain had his arm on display then, and he made a noise that was a cross between a snort and a laugh. “Yikes. That's a pretty embarrassing marking to have.”

“Yours must have been embarrassing too.” Owain said back to him. Niles took his hand. Owain looked down at it, and then back up at Niles, and he grinned at him. “Be warned—I may not be able to quell the rage in my sword arm long, should you... Where are we going?”

“C'mon, dork. I'm gonna go find you a dry shirt.” Inigo watched Niles lead Owain off in the direction of the foyer, undoubtedly to the stairs, to a bedroom where he could find a new shirt. Maybe one of his own? He'd obviously come prepared to drink himself stupid. He was probably spending the night. They were almost out of earshot when Inigo heard Niles add “You know, I _really_ have a thing for blondes.”

Xander was silent through the whole exchange—even if Elise was across the room screeching about it—but when it was over and they had walked away he leaned down closer to Inigo and asked “Did you know..?”

Inigo nodded his head and he laughed, but part of him thought it was too much laughter. He didn't like it. He didn't like the awareness that he was drunk, or being so cautious of everything he said... but he also thought if he had even just a sip of anything else he would become very _unaware_ of his actions... and that would arguably be worse. Xander kissed his forehead over his bangs, and Inigo wasn't even sure what it was for... but the answer came in a quiet comment. “You're being awfully affectionate. You're not normally so touchy in crowds.”

Inigo had no idea what he meant. Was he being more affectionate than normal? The confusion only lasted long enough for him to process that he was literally wrapped around Xander's arm, and that his head was pressed into his shoulder. The realization came with a blush, and he took an entire step backwards from his boyfriend. “I'm sorry, I... should I not? I'm just... Camilla kept refilling my glass.”

“I love you, Inigo.” Xander reached out and pulled him closer by his hand... and when Inigo was close enough he raised that hand to his mouth and kissed it. “I think I can endure a little clingyness. If this is drunk, for you, it is surprisingly docile by comparison to Camilla or Leo.”

“I'm not embarrassing you in front of everyone..?”

“Have I once called you an embarrassment? I'd be more likely to boast than hide you away. No one here has a more handsome date than I do, tonight.”

Inigo was way too drunk for compliments. He didn't even know what he was supposed to do, so he chose to smoosh himself closer to to Xander and kiss the corner of his jaw. (Heck, he really liked kissing. He probably would have done more than just that, given the chance.) It had been a great compliment, really. He sort of hoped he remembered it, come morning. Those thoughts were interrupted, though, when Xander moved his mouth near his ear and said “Come with me. I promised Elise I would play for her. You can sit with me, if you like.”

“Oh, play... what?”

 

…

 

A piano. Xander led Inigo through the crowd of people and when they arrived at their destination it was a piano bench and a grand piano that Inigo supposed had always been in that room... but he had no idea that Xander knew how to play it. Even the piano had garland hanging off of it's sides. Elise had spared no decoration, that was for certain.

Xander took a seat on the bench and patted the empty spot to his side. Inigo was quick to join him, and he sat beside him and watched him stretch out his fingers and crack his knuckles. It was while Xander was doing that, that Elise ran up behind him and swiftly hugged Inigo. He gasped, but her giggles gave away who she was and he relaxed in her embrace. “Elise! You startled me.”

“Inigo!” Her laughter was contagious, as it always was, but she kept one of her arms wrapped around Inigo's shoulder, and draped the other arm over her brother's. “You two owe me _big_!”

“What's that, then?” Xander asked. Elise turned her attention above the three of them. Inigo lazily followed her gaze, and he was only half surprised by the bundle of mistletoe above them. He supposed it was lucky he'd avoided them thus far... but when he turned his attention back to Elise it was because she was untangling her arms from the two of them and instead tapping both of her cheeks with her index fingers.

Even if he hadn't been drunk, Inigo didn't think he would have hesitated. He loved Elise. He loved all of Xander's siblings, actually, but he had a special fond spot for the youngest. She was just a teenager but she seemed to be the most invested in making everyone smile. She'd organized this whole party while most of them worked! So he didn't bother with being shy about it or hesitating any more than he would have if it was his aunts asking for a kiss to the cheek.

Both men leaned closer and pressed a sweet smooch to either side of her face, and standing between them Elise giggled and Inigo was vaguely aware of a camera flash (he hadn't really signed up for that, but it was over before he could protest it). When Xander and Inigo both pulled themselves away from her she put her hand on Inigo's shoulder. “You smell like wine!”

“Oh—I—er...”

“It's okay, silly! Thank you so much for bringing Owain with you! That was so exciting! Are you going to sing with me and Camilla?”

“Oh, I don't... I may have had a touch too much to drink, to sing, really... and there are a lot of people here.”

“Don't be silly! Camilla is _always_ drunk when we sing. That's what makes it fun!”

Elise backed up and went to join Camilla to the side of the Piano, in front of a small group of the party-goers that were planning to watch or join in the fun. Inigo stayed put on the bench because he just wasn't sure he was up for that, yet... but he turned his attention to the keys when he realized Xander was playing. For what it was worth he played beautifully. He made it look effortless, and Inigo knew well and good that it wasn't.

Xander hummed along with the songs that Camilla and Elise sang. Elise sang them flawlessly, truly capturing the spirit of the holiday they were celebrating and not afraid to reach out for some of the higher or more gravely notes. She was surprisingly good at it. Camilla sang along damn near flawlessly, but once or twice she stumbled over the words.

The songs were sort of a blur, but Inigo was brought back to reality a few times when Xander would lean closer to reach the keys that laid past Inigo, or when he chuckled softly at his sister's errors. Eventually Camilla came closer to Inigo. She leaned in and offered him another kiss on his cheek. _Oh!_ He thought _Maybe I was under a mistletoe before..?_ She also offered him the remaining few sips of her glass. “Come on now, you've got to sing for us. Take a sip for confidence and come join us.”

“I would love to hear you sing.” Xander added, and _god_ he smiled at him. Inigo had planned to say no, but how could he? That, he supposed, was all the peer pressure it took. He drank the last swallows of her cup and didn't think about the cooties involved, really. He just shifted so he could stand up and join them, but... Before he stood Xander caught him by his wrist and pulled him back. Inigo was confused, until their mouths met. Then he was just enthusiastic about being kissed. He didn't think he would ever say no to that. Maybe he was too enthusiastic? Xander pulled away from him with a little bit of a laugh—their lips were still touching when he added “I don't make the rules of mistletoe, Inigo. I couldn't let you leave without a kiss.”

 _I love this man._ Inigo couldn't help his smile, or pecking Xander's lips again, but he _did_ will himself to stand up and join the sisters. Elise squealed when he did, and she grabbed him by his wrists and pulled him closer. She started dancing some _obscure_ dance that made Inigo bubble up with laughter... and he did his best to follow her lead.

 

…

 

Inigo wasn't really sure when he transitioned from dancing with Elise or singing _Baby It's Cold Outside_ with Camilla, but he certainly wasn't anymore. He didn't know when the party ended, even. He just knew that, in that moment, he had his back pressed hard against Xander's door, and his arms were wrapped around his shoulders for both support and to draw him closer while they kissed.

He was going to spend the night with Xander. No one had really said it out loud, but he pretty much was sure of it at that point. He entirely forgot about everyone else. He didn't think about Owain or if he needed a ride home or really what he was going to do... he just thought about the way his lips tingled under rough kisses, and how he was having trouble catching his breath. A stray thought crossed his mind, wondering if things were getting serious.

Xander pushed his knee hard between Inigo's thighs and he decided that it was assuredly just as serious as he'd previously imagined. Inigo shifted his hands down to hang on to Xander's shirt for dear life, and he rolled his hips against his thigh. Their kisses tasted like wine and peppermint and maybe a hint of desperation.

It took him a second to realize that Xander was pulling at the hem of his shirt. Once he did, he broke off their kiss and lifted up his arms to assist Xander in the process of peeling off the shirt. For a moment Inigo was sure Xander was just staring at him, like he hadn't already seen him sans shirt before. He slid his hand over the marking on Inigo's hip again. That sort of familiar spark of heat flooded right down to Inigo's groin, and he he rocked against him again and thought he could _probably_ just get off on that alone.

Xander had other plans, he guessed, because he tugged him forward. Inigo stumbled at first, but Xander's grip kept him from really tripping. He noticed Xander stepped out of his shoes easily while he backed up towards the bed... and Inigo realized he wasn't even _wearing_ shoes. Frankly he had no idea when that happened, either. The thought was pushed from his mind, though, when he fell onto the bed with Xander. He laid on his side facing him and pressed little kisses just about anywhere he could reach... because everything was warm and tingly and he absolutely didn't want the contact between them to end.

Inigo pushed on Xander's shoulder until he rolled over onto his back, and from there it was easy to crawl over him. He situated himself to sit comfortably on his hips, and he reached down to work through unbuttoning his shirt. His lips were numb by then, but not his fingers, and he managed to get the shirt open easily enough. Once it was he pushed aside the fabric and smoothed his hands along Xander's abs, and up to his chest. For just a moment he hesitated to brush the pad of his thumb over Xander's nipple. It was so pink and pretty, and he murmured the words “You have perfect nipples.”

Xander's laugh rang in Inigo's ears, but it was actually fairly soft. “How does one define perfect?”

“You.” Inigo said it softly, and he looked carefully into Xander's eyes. “You're perfect. Everything about you, and you're always warm and nice and good.” It came out a mess. He was just babbling, and his brain wasn't really relaying to him that he was saying something stupid. He looked down at Xander's chest when he noticed a tear bounce off of it. Then another... and he realized he was crying.

Right away he felt the bed shift. Xander sat up and reached out to hold Inigo's face. “Inigo? What's wrong—what's the matter?”

He brushed away one of the tears with his thumb, and Inigo shook his head in protest. His face scrunched up and he sobbed. “You're so perfect!” He just _wailed_ it. There was really little reserve. Xander looked confused but Inigo really couldn't be bothered to pity him. He wrapped his legs around Xander's waist and his arms around his neck and he hugged him as tight as he could, really, like some sort of clingy leech... because he loved him _so much_.

He felt Xander dip his head to the side enough that it laid against his own. He chuckled quietly—Inigo really didn't think Xander was half as drunk as he was—and he turned and kissed Inigo's ear. He hummed his name with more patience than Inigo really thought he deserved. “Inigo I am hardly perfect in _any_ regard.” He laughed softly, again, and he added “Why are you crying?”

“Because you're perfect!” Inigo whined, but he shifted back with just his wrists draped over Xander's shoulders, and he looked at him with teary eyes. “Stop laughing at me, this is serious!”

Xander nodded his head, and swallowed down any of his laughter... but he still had trouble masking his smile. He used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe away the tears dribbling down Inigo's chin for him, and he said “Alright. I'm being serious. Why does my being hypothetically perfect make you cry?”

“Because I don't deserve you.” Inigo answered. “Obviously! You're beautiful and nice and you smell good and what did you even get out of this deal?” He threw his arms up, but he'd meant to gesture to himself. Either way his point must have come across, because Xander's expression shifted into a calmer smile.

“I've often thought the same of you.” He said. It took longer than Inigo expected for those words to sink in. When they did Inigo bit his lip and hiccuped out a few more, tiny sobs. Xander thought he was good and beautiful and nice too. He hugged Xander hard enough around his neck that they toppled back into the pillows together. It took some awkward shifting, but with a little work Inigo fell beside Xander, and he turned on his side to face him.

His voice was much calmer, and certainly softer, when he said “Xander..? I'm tired.”

“Me too.” Xander agreed. He reached out with both arms and pulled Inigo closer, so close that his nose was tucked against Xander's neck and Xander's chin was hooked over his head. Inigo took a deep breath through his nose (barely, he was congested from all that crying) and by the time he exhaled it out in a sigh he was already falling asleep.

 

…

 

The next day came and it brought pain and suffering with it. Inigo woke up to the sound of someone groaning in pain... it took him a solid ten seconds to realize it was _himself._ His head was throbbing just over his eyes, near his temples, and he actually thought he was going to die, for a few seconds. He thought this was probably what it felt like to have an aneurysm.

He shifted until he was curled up in a ball... and that was really when it sank in that he was alone in that great big bed. He tilted his head and blearily blinked until his vision focused on the empty spot where Xander should have been.

He was in his underwear. He had no idea how or when that happened... he was pretty sure he fell asleep with his pants on. He sighed... and as if his discontent summoned relief, the door to the room opened. Inigo turned his head just enough to see the door, and he sighed again, but this time less heavily.

Xander was dressed just like he would be any other day he wasn't working. His shirt was a pale pink that actually wasn't far off in tone from Inigo's hair, and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He had on black slacks and a pair of socks that were actually... green and red, with little Christmas trees on them. Inigo would have bet money that they were a gift from Elise.

He had a tray in his hand. Just a small platter with a teapot and two glasses that were turned upside down, waiting to be filled. He set the tray on the table beside the bed, and the clattering of the ceramic and metal made Inigo wince and shift to hold his head. To add insult to that injury, Xander spoke... and in spite of the fact that Inigo normally loved his voice... he certainly wished he was whispering. “You're joining us? It's after noon. I had half a mind to check for a pulse.”

Inigo groaned again. It was at least ten seconds later that he justified that whine with words. “Too loud.” Xander rolled his eyes, and moved to pour the tea into the glasses. Inigo noticed because of the noise, but that easily drew his attention down to something else that was sitting on the tray: two white pills. “Are those for me?”

“Yes. Take them both with that tea. Drink the whole cup. It's a special blend Camilla drinks for hangovers.”

Honestly just a pain pill sounded like heaven, but Inigo wasn't about to argue with a magic tea that cured hangovers. He shifted to sit up (finally), and when he did he pushed a hand through his messy hair. Xander handed him a cup, and for a moment Inigo just held it in his hands to warm them. Only for a second... and then he took both the pills with a big gulp of the tea. It burnt his tongue... but he didn't even care. “I don't remember much of last night.” He muttered, and he rubbed the burnt tip of his tongue against the roof of his mouth, as if that might soothe it. It didn't. “Please... say I didn't embarrass myself?”

Xander took a seat on the bed, and Inigo shifted his legs so they were tucked under himself, so Xander would have plenty of room. “No more than the rest of us,” He answered, and Inigo was halfway through sighing in relief when he caught sight of a smirk on his boyfriend's lips. “Although the mere sight of my nipples did move you to tears.”

“Oh no...” Inigo's hands were busy, he couldn't cover his face, but he turned his gaze down and stared into the mug of dark tea and pretended like that was enough to hide the shame that blossomed across his face. Xander chuckled at him, he was clearly amused... but Inigo wasn't. He hated himself for drinking at all, really. He knew going into that evening that he had zero success stories of alcohol... and that still rang true. “I don't drink much.”

“It was... cute.” Xander lied, Inigo was sure of it. There was no way that was cute. He shook his head slowly, but he took another sip of the tea (this time without burning himself).

“Oh!” He realized, and he looked back up at Xander's eyes. “Do you know what happened to Owain?”

Xander nodded his head yes to the question, and he took up his own tea. Inigo wondered if he really _needed_ special hangover tea. Xander didn't look hungover by any means. “Last night he and Niles never made it back to the party. I would venture to guess they got _distracted_ looking for a shirt. I saw him this morning. He wasn't faring much better than you are. Niles, Forrest, and Leo took him out to breakfast.”

Well at least he wasn't dead. Inigo supposed he should have been glad about that... but he certainly would have to ask Owain what happened to him later. He had only drank half the cup of tea, but he set it aside and slumped back into the sheets until he was laying down. He hurt _everywhere_ , and there was no way that medicine was working fast enough. He didn't want to do anything at all, really.

Xander was staring at him. Inigo tried to ignore it for a few seconds, but then he cracked a tiny smile and asked “Don't you have meetings or conference calls or something?” A joke, of course, and it was obvious in his voice because Xander smiled at him and shook his head no.

“I thought I would spend Christmas Eve with you.”

Inigo looked away, but then back shortly after. He blushed only just a little... and he asked “Just me?”

“Only you.” Xander agreed. He made something of a show of holding up his phone for Inigo, and showing him the screen as it powered off. He set it on the table next to the tray of tea. Inigo really had only been joking about the conference call thing... but he didn't miss the power behind the gesture. He opened up his arms, and he was more than thrilled when Xander laid down with him.

It was honestly the best Christmas Eve ever. Inigo got his wish of doing nothing... The two of them lounged around in Xander's bed the whole day. Halfway through the afternoon Inigo got up to take all the pillows from the set of chairs, and from the closet, and he took every blanket he could find... and he turned Xander's bed into a mess of fluffy, feathery pillows. There was a television on across the room, buzzing with food shows that were all Christmas themed and featured hams and turkeys and cookies and pies. Inigo showed Xander ridiculous videos on the internet on his phone, and he spent all of his time curled up in his arms.

Inigo supposed that it would have been twice as thrilling and maybe more fun if he had sex with Xander the night before. Certainly it would have been rough and fast and full of drunken kisses.

...Instead they had sex that day after the party, in a blanket nest and a pile of pillows, and with the fading sunset filtering in through the window. It was the farthest thing from rough as possible. Every move felt slow, every kiss was lazy and patient. It was almost a dream. It was anything but awkward. It was certainly the first time Inigo (and, he suspected, Xander) had ever done something quite like that... but it wasn't embarrassing or scary. It was like the gentle, slow dance from the music box, from their lessons, from the skating rink. It was warm sparks and long kisses and hot breath and frequent reminders he was not just loved, but absolutely cherished by that man.

It was everything he wanted for the rest of his life, and when it was over Inigo lounged lazily on top of Xander's chest, laid there on his belly, kept his cheek and ear against the sound of his slowing heartbeat, and he repeated the only thing he really and truly knew was true from the night before. “Everything about you is perfect.”

 


	6. 6. New Years Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The coldest day of the year.

_New Years Eve_

“So today’s the day.”

Inigo looked up from his spot on their couch and focused on the hazel color of Owain’s eyes. _Today’s the day_. He wasn’t sure what Owain could have meant by that. Today was… New Year’s Eve. It wasn’t anything special beyond that, that Inigo could recall. Well, he supposed he had heard on the news that it was supposed to be the coldest day of the year, yet. It was still early in the winter, though, so Inigo was sure it wouldn’t hold that title for long.

He tied off the bow in the shoe lace and he waited for some more explanation. Today was the day… that he had a date with Xander. Inigo did, that was. They were going to join in the festivities the city held that day. It had surprised Inigo, at first, for Xander to ask him out on the town on a holiday like that. He supposed he’d expected him to spend it with his family.

Then again, his family all seemed to have plans too.

Owain didn’t finish the thought, or at least he didn’t clarify it, and so Inigo took the bait and cleared his throat. “What day is that, then?” Inigo stood up and straightened out his jacket. It was new. The one he always wore had served him well for a while, but he loved the jacket he had now. It had been his Christmas gift from Xander. It was fleece on the inside, but the outside was leathery and the same shade of brown as his eyes, so no cold got in at all _and_ he looked good wearing it. (It was also particularly well fitted to him. If he didn’t know better he thought it was supposed to be…but there was just no way that Xander could have known those exact measurements, right?) He tucked his hands into the pockets and from them pulled out the slim gloves that he would put on shortly.

“The day you finally get kissed at midnight. Obviously! What other occasion should happen on this, the night that one year bleeds into the next?” Owain wasn’t dressed up anything fancy. He was going out that night, but he just looked like his average self. Well… his average self with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was unafraid of his soulmate mark, recently. Inigo wondered why he seemed to like it better all of a sudden. Maybe Niles had said something about it?

Inigo blushed at the very idea of being kissed at midnight. He supposed there was no lie to the statement. It _was_ going to happen… he was sure of it. It was horribly cliché but Inigo had always been a man for the ‘classics’, as he liked to say, and so he wanted it. Badly. He had never been in a really successful relationship before Xander, and he’d certainly never been in a committed relationship over the new year.

They said that when a couple kissed at midnight on the turn of the new year, it would grant their relationship good fortune. Inigo supposed they didn’t really _need_ luck. As soulmates he and Xander were destined to succeed. Still… it was romantic.

Romantic or cliché or both or neither, Inigo still rolled his eyes through his tiny blush and countered the comment, as if he needed to evade an attack and not just a playful jab. “Don’t say that as if you don’t have a date tonight, too.”

Owain shook his head. He was on his feet, not too far from Inigo. He was leaning against his shoulder, in the doorway between the small kitchen and the small living room that made up their little ‘bachelor pad’. “Well, sure, but it’s a first date.” He said it like there was some argument behind it. There wasn't, not really. A first date or a fiftieth, it didn't matter so long as someone planted a kiss on his mouth when the clock struck twelve, right?

“Doesn’t a first date still deserve good luck on the new year?” Inigo hummed out the question. Niles and Owain met at the Christmas Eve-Eve party. Turned out after Niles led Owain off to find a new shirt they just decided that neither of them needed one and spent the night getting to know each other… intimately.  After that they had breakfast with Leo and his son, and then Owain got a head start on heading home to his mom’s house. “Incredible how you managed to have sex _before_ the first date.”

The sentence hung in the air for a few seconds, but it was followed up sure enough with the single word “Twice.” Both of them said it, it came out in an awkward unison and when it happened Inigo’s lips turned into a smirk and Owain’s formed a shy smile before he started to blush and ducked into the kitchen to hide it. Inigo turned his attention to his keys, and reached out to take them from the bowl near the door.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay with all those people around? The square is going to be nuts.” Owain asked from the other room. Inigo’s smirk faltered and he thought about that. Sure, he thought, Owain was right. There were sure to be plenty of people gathered to celebrate the turn of the new year. There would no doubt be plenty of drinking and fireworks and crowds.

“I think they’ll be too busy to bother me.” He said, but he supposed he was a little worried about it. He didn’t want to be. He knew he got a little claustrophobic and anxious in crowds, and he certainly hated people staring at him… but he would be alright. Xander would put his arm around him and keep him close like he always did. “I appreciate the concern.”

Owain reappeared in front of Inigo with a can of soda in his hand. “Just call me okay? I’ll come get you if you need anything.”

“And you would miss out on your date? Niles is a very nice man, you know.” His lips turned into a smile when Owain blushed again. It was interesting to see him do that… especially over _romance_. He’d spent a good many years telling Inigo that he didn’t buy into soulmates or predetermined fate… but now that he’d met his soulmate he seemed to be singing a different tune.

“Would you believe that I’ve actually talked to him with our clothes on once or twice?” Owain asked. He shook his head, like he thought he could just clear away the blush like that, like he could make Inigo forget the red hue that blossomed over his freckled cheeks. “I know he’s nice. Nice enough that he’d probably understand if I had to go pick you up. Aren’t you supposed to be meeting Xander at nine? You should hurry up.”

 

…

 

It wasn’t even nine yet when Inigo arrived at the square and it was already swarming with people. He supposed he understood now why Owain felt the need to promise to come get him if he got too claustrophobic. It was packed. He’d never gone to a city-wide event before, not like this. It was actually… almost scary. Then again… his earlier thoughts were still true. No one was going to bother with him, they would be far too focused on enjoying themselves.

They said it was the coldest day of the year and Inigo believed it. He zipped up his jacket and took a look around. He didn’t recognize anyone at all, really. The faces were all blended together among the heavy snow that was falling in clumps and the already dark sky. A lot of people had candles with them. Most of the light came from the residual Christmas lights on buildings, and the street lamp posts that hadn’t yet been stripped of their red bows.

He supposed it didn’t matter if he couldn’t recognize anyone. He was only looking for Xander, really, and they’d already arranged to meet up at the corner across the street from the coffee shop. Inigo had speculated that there would be too many people flooded around the café to meet on that side of the street. He was right. The line was all but out the door, everyone wanted to get their hands on something warm to drink.

Off to his left he noticed a few police officers. More than he generally saw floating in one place, but he wasn’t surprised. There were some barricades up to block traffic, and a few officers patrolling. Most of them were just chatting with each other. They were there, of course, to keep the peace. There was no doubt high risk of criminal activity anywhere that drunken crowds gathered.

He hoped that everything went smoothly, if not for the sake of fun then for the sake of the officers who were forced to work instead of spend time with their families. He supposed that sympathy extended out to more than just the officers. The coffee shop was open, and so was the bar where Severa worked. Brady usually worked a shift at the hospital on Friday nights. Inigo wondered If he was working or not.

This was the first year that Inigo didn’t go back home to see his aunts. Owain hadn’t gone either. The both of them had dates (for the first times in their lives) on the new year. Lissa usually hosted a big family party with some of their friends… but she seemed to be understanding. She was excited to hear about her little boys finding love, after all.

Oh, and Inigo was deep in love. He didn’t think he could remember what his life was like before. Had he really cared what all those rejected advances thought of him? He couldn’t have cared less anymore. Of course his habit of flirting hadn’t changed, but he hardly bothered to seek more than just to bring a smile to a lovely lady’s lips anymore. Now all that really mattered was if he brought a smile to Xander’s lips, before they met his own.

The snow from the night before was relentless. It was about two feet deep (not as bad as that first snow, but still difficult to navigate). In the square the snow had been shoveled and plowed, forming giant mounds in some places but otherwise it was cleared. If the snow kept falling the way it was, Inigo imagined all that work would be for nothing.

Elise and Sophie always lit up when it snowed. They loved to watch it fall and to run outside and catch it on their tongues. They played in the snow far more often than Inigo thought he ever could. Of course, Inigo had a very different view of the snow than he used to.

He used to hate the winter because it was so cold and lifeless. Since he met Xander he realized that maybe he was just being spiteful. There were a lot of benefits to the snow, and to winter. The snow meant he could watch it gather in Xander’s hair, or he could rub their chilled noses together in Eskimo kisses. It meant he could sit in the window seat in Xander’s office and hold a warm mug of cocoa, while Xander worked or—even better—while Xander curled under a blanket beside him. It meant snow ball fights and romantic dates and it meant _new year’s kisses._ Maybe Inigo… liked the snow? It was hard to believe, but it was true.

He gently tugged his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans. It was about 9:17… and it was strange that Xander wasn’t there yet. He was on time for nearly everything he ever did. That was to say, unless _work_ got in the way. A sigh slipped out of his mouth and manifested as a puff of steam in the air, and he was forced to smile even though he was sure Xander had let work get the best of him again.

He was so busy so often lately. It was horrible. Inigo did his best to distract him through any means possible, be it kisses or dates or just meaningless chit chat… because he hated to see Xander’s eyes riddled with concern. He didn’t know what was going on with that company, but he knew he was sick of how much stress it heaped upon Xander in excess. His eyes slid shut and he felt a snowflake or two fall over his eyelids. It was cold, but it brought a tiny curl of a smile back to his lips because he could already imagine Xander pulling him close and kissing his ear while he whispered his apology for his tardiness.

More and more people were filling up the square. It was starting to get loud from the music—the entertainment was clearly starting to play. Even the little ‘out-of-the-way’ meeting spot they chose was going to be a crowd soon. He tugged out his phone to check the time again. He was _freezing_. He almost wished they’d chosen to meet inside… but he was glad he was outside. It gave him a better idea of who was around—he would spot Xander’s tall form in his dark coat easily. He thought he had a whole mound of snow in his hair, and he reached up and brushed his hand through it to shake some of it out. He should have worn a hat he supposed.

It was 9:30. It was… strange. Xander was an entire half-hour late, and Inigo was… worried. Worried that something was wrong with him. What if he was stuck in the snow? He had always heard that when one half of a set of soulmates was in danger, the other one felt immense nervousness or fear. Inigo was pretty prone to anxiety anyway… but he had none. Not really. He supposed he should have considered that to be some sort of comfort.

He decided to call him. He looked back at his phone and unlocked it, but before he even managed to pull up the number to call his phone notified him of a new text message from Xander. Inigo felt a sort of relief, then. At least he was certainly alright. He supposed he expected the message to say he was sorry he was late, and that he was on his way.

It didn’t.

_‘Inigo- Our time together was nothing short of amazing, but I cannot carry on the way things are. Effective immediately I can no longer see you. I wish you the best. -Xander’_

Inigo literally read it three times. Once wasn’t enough. The second time he thought he was in too much shock to really process it. It took three times reading it before he was sure he hadn’t overlooked a word. There wasn’t a typo. It was very direct. It took three times reading it before his hands started shaking and he dropped the phone into the snow in front of him.

The instinct to pick it up kicked in fast enough to save it. He dusted the snow off of it and looked it over, the phone was mostly fine. There was a tiny crack in the screen, but barely noticeable. The message was still right there on the screen, front and center. A broken phone would have been the least of his problems.

His heart wouldn’t stop racing. He thought he felt like he did that night at the gas station. He felt anxiety—but this time he couldn’t just run away from a man with a gun. This was… probably worse. _He dumped me_. Xander dumped him! Was it real? Inigo couldn’t even wrap his head around it. Everything was going so well! They had standing dates, and they were in love. The Christmas party had been so much fun, and they day after had been incredibly romantic and comfortable… and how could Xander have sex with him, and tell him that he loved him, and kiss him anywhere he could reach like he was the most valuable thing in the world less than a week ago… and suddenly not want to see him anymore?

Why was it so cold? Why was it such a professional phrase…? It looked more like he was _firing_ Inigo than dumping him. It was entirely void of anything akin to emotion. It was… it was horrible! It was horrible and somehow, some way, it was real.

Inigo couldn’t even text back. He was shaking too much, he didn’t know what he was supposed to say anyway. Was he supposed to respond? Should he say ‘okay’? It wasn’t okay. Inigo _loved him_. He pushed his phone back into his back pocket and he turned to look left and right.

He didn’t recognize anyone. There were so many people, so many faces. A flood of smiles and laughter and people with their families or people with their dates… and Inigo felt stupid. He felt like they were all watching him, like they could all see it. They all knew he had been stood up, they all knew he had been dumped. Everyone was staring at him. They all knew he wasn’t good enough.

He was in the middle of town. He _couldn’t_ have a breakdown there, he thought, because he just had no one to save him. It was damn near ten at night and he was absolutely mortified. He didn’t know what to do, or what to think, or what to say. His heart was racing but it also felt like it had completely stopped. His head felt light. He was struggling to focus on even one clear thought at a time. It felt like he was dying.

He couldn’t take the judgement that people were passing on him. He raised his hands up to his head, covered his ears and stared at the ground. He didn’t want to see them, or look at them. He didn’t want to hear the music or the romance or the laughter. He didn’t want them to pity him, not when all of them were happy and in love and he was just _alone_.

He shook his head. Not at anyone in particular. He just wanted to escape the thoughts swarming in his mind, crawling all over him like tiny spiders. He backed up until his back hit the solid building and grounded him, and only then he moved his hands away from his ears. Instead he clamped them over his mouth, over his nose, and he tried so hard not to cry. He didn’t want to cry. He couldn’t cry—not then. He needed to go home first.

It was impossible. It wouldn’t click in his brain. He loved Xander _so much_. He loved his smile and his ugly snort-laugh and his family and even loved him for his vices. Inigo could still remember Xander’s hand sliding over his thigh when he drove him in his car. He could still remember his hot breath sucking hard on his chest when they made love. Xander spoiled him with touches and kisses and… what was he supposed to do, go back to being rejected all the time?

“Ah!” He gasped and nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. For half a second he thought it was Xander. Maybe it was him, here to say everything was a misunderstanding or an elaborate stupid joke or _something_. Anything. He supposed he knew it wasn’t Xander, though. It wasn’t that familiar, tingling touch. It was just a hand.

He turned and he was looking into the face of one of the earlier police officers. He had a huge build, broad shoulders and certainly the arms of a weight lifter. He had bright hair and a booming voice (and sweet lord above, Inigo just wished he would speak quieter). He asked “Are you alright, citizen?”

Who spoke like that? Inigo didn’t even get it. Why would he be so loud, so obvious, when it was so clear Inigo was horrified? But his voice… it was showy, almost dramatic, and it reminded Inigo of Owain… and Inigo was sure. He needed to go home. He shook his head no (to the question? Perhaps.) and he backed away from the officer, slowly at first… but then he just _ran_.

He supposed deep down he was surprised that the officer didn’t chase him. It certainly would have seemed suspicious he thought, to turn tail and run away from a cop like that. Inigo didn’t wait to see what he thought. He didn’t wait for anything. He ran, he wove through the crowds and he felt a little guilty when he accidentally knocked someone down… but he didn’t apologize. He just kept his head down and pushed past everyone until he made it out of the square.

The side streets weren’t as busy. Inigo was glad for that, because his chest heaved and his lungs ached from trying to breathe in that frigid air. It was just too cold for sprinting. He didn’t want to, not really, but he knew he had to cut through the park. It would be abandoned by then. It would get him home faster.

He raced through it. He couldn’t slow down no matter how badly his lungs burned, no matter how hard the struggle to breathe was, because he absolutely couldn’t let himself look around the park. He didn’t want to think about the path that led into the woods, into the clearing where they met. He didn’t want to look across the street and see the tattoo parlor where Xander got his ear pierced, or the cupcake shop where Xander smeared a dollop of buttercream on Inigo’s nose. He didn’t want to think about Elise telling him how pretty his dance was, or think about Severa’s worried face if she could have seen him now.

He just wanted to go home. He wanted to get there fast… but karma came back to bite him for knocking down that person earlier, because his ankle got tangled up in a snowdrift and he fell face first into the deep mound of settled snow.

For a millisecond his thoughts flew away, to early December and to Xander’s arm wrapped firm around his waist as they fell hard into the snow. He thought about Xander kissing him so hard that his lip was bruised the next day, and thought about the way his voice sounded when he said he loved him for the first time.

His ankle hurt. He folded his arms under his face, and he just cried. He laid there in the snow, there was just no point in bothering to stand yet. He just needed to cry. It was _over_. How could it be over? He just didn’t understand. Why would Xander break up with him if he loved him? He had to love him. He had to, because why else would he have treated him like he was so precious, or kissed his forehead when he was nervous, or been his _soulmate_?

The only explanation at all was that he never loved him in the first place. It had to be that, because Inigo’s heart was so overwhelmingly full of love for Xander that he couldn’t even fathom letting him go… let alone standing him up in the middle of town, for the world to see.

Part of him wanted to fall asleep there. He’d let himself lay in the snow for longer than he should have. At least twenty minutes… and his whole body was barely even bothering to shake anymore. He was tired, and he thought… Brady would have killed him if he died there in the snow. (Freezing to death sounded like a great alternative than living a life without Xander, he thought, but even he knew that was a tad too dramatic.)

He pushed himself up to his feet and put weight on the twisted ankle. It was alright. Just a little sore but he didn’t run on it. It was too late to care about running or walking. He couldn’t even care enough to dust himself off. He dragged his feet and walked through the snow, and he just tried to think of anything else. Anything at all. He couldn’t. All of his thoughts were on Xander’s beautiful face, and he felt like he wanted to cry and throw up and die all at once.

It hurt to walk up the stairs to his apartment but he did it anyway. He was almost there. He thought he would just collapse into the couch and not bother to change, or to do anything. He just wanted to lay there until the world made sense again, if it ever made sense again. He fumbled with the lock on the door and he could remember Xander’s hand wrapping around his, guiding him to unlock it. He could remember how every time he cried, no matter what it was about… Xander always held him close and told him it was alright. Even if he didn’t know that to be true, he did it. Inigo gave up on his key and thumped his head hard against the door once, twice, three times. He wanted to knock the image right out of his head, he wanted to forget it.

The door opened and so did Inigo’s mouth, because some amount of shock crossed his features. Owain was standing right there. He looked absolutely shocked—like he had no idea what he was looking at. Inigo imagined he was probably a mess, but he was… also confused. Owain wasn’t supposed to be there. He was supposed to be out with his newfound boyfriend.

They stood there staring at each other for a few seconds before Inigo forced the words out of his mouth. “I-It’s after ten. I-I thought you h-had a d-date.” His voice was chilled and watery and maybe even snotty and he couldn’t help it. He reached up to try and wipe his tears with the back of his gloved hands, but his gloves were still dusted with snow so it hardly helped him. He _hated_ the snow.

Owain pulled him inside and shut and locked the door. “You’re soaking wet!” He said, and he unzipped Inigo’s jacket, peeled the wet fabric off of him. Inigo wondered if he would ever put that jacket on again, after this. He sort of doubted it. It had been nice while it lasted. “Take off those shoes, hurry up.”

Inigo didn’t want to. He didn’t unlace them. He stepped on his heels to step out of the shoes, and his socks felt squelchy. He could barely walk. Owain pushed him to the bathroom and Inigo was half convinced he just floated there, because his knees ached and his legs were numb. Owain started running hot water in the tub. “You’re freezing.”

Inigo was sort of piecing together what was going on. The water was the biggest hint, but Owain tugging at his shirt was another clue. He must have been too cold, because Owain kept touching his cheek with the back of his hand. He must have been too cold, because Owain thought it was urgent he get into a hot bath… and that was really more of a Brady or Lissa or even Maribelle thing to do.

Inigo didn’t fight him. He wasn’t sure he was super interested in a bath either, of course. He didn’t want to take a bath. He wanted to lay on the couch and hide in his own head for a while. But he just… didn’t care. Inigo had next to zero interest in his own well-being one way or another. He just obeyed the request, stepped out of all the wet clothes, and then sat down in the tub. He hardly cared if Owain saw him or didn’t. He pulled his knees up to his chest right away, and he crossed his ankles and wrapped his arms around his legs. The water burned against his cold skin. He sort of liked it, in some awful way he knew he shouldn’t. It was a nice distraction from the heavy feeling in his heart.

Owain sat down on the toilet seat lid. There was silence for a while. Inigo liked that, he liked not being asked, but it only lasted so long. “What happened?”

Inigo set his chin on his knees and stared at the ripples in the water. The sound of the faucet gushing and the steam floating in the air was a pleasant distraction. His skin didn’t burn as much, but it was pink all over. He was still crying. Maybe perpetually. It never stopped, he supposed. “Xander broke up with me.”

“What? He—but you..?”

“He didn’t even show up, Owain! He just texted me. It’s still in my phone—I…” He shook his head and closed his eyes. He didn’t know what he was going to say anyway. He heard the shuffle of clothes, and glanced up to see that Owain was digging his phone out of the wet heap of jeans on the floor. He watched Owain brush his thumb over the cracked portion of the screen.

Owain read it. Inigo wasn’t really opposed to it. There was nothing to hide. There was just a heartless message saying they were over. That was the end. Owain’s brow creased with concern, like he didn’t think the message made sense. Neither did Inigo. “Why me?” He asked quietly. “Soulmates… they work out.” His face scrunched up, his voice cracked, and he hardly did more than squeak out the rest of his words. “W-We were _made_ for each other, we… Ninety-nine and a half percent, Owain, that’s how often soulmates work out, I…” Owain was silent. Inigo drew his hand through the splattering water, just to hear the sound it made. He shook his head.

No one wanted to meet their soulmate and fall in love quite as badly as Inigo did. He just hadn’t expected falling in love to be like this. He hiccupped through another sob, and asked “H-How am I that half of a percent? Why… all I ever wanted, I…”

Owain didn’t break his silence. At some point he reached out and turned off the faucet before the tub overfilled. Inigo continued to sit in his huddled position. Owain continued to sit where he was on the toilet lid. There was quiet for a long while, while Inigo cried and the steam made his nose run a little. Eventually he sniffled and choked out a new question. “What happened to your date?”

“Niles texted me and said something came up with his family. I guess maybe…”

This. Inigo bit his lip and considered that. They were all gossiping about him, now. Xander's whole family, that was. He wondered how long they knew. He wondered if they knew at all. Had Elise known, the last time she smiled bright at Inigo, that Xander was going to break things off? Maybe Leo had, or Forrest, even. Why had they wasted so much time telling Inigo how much happier Xander was with him, when clearly it didn't matter at all?

“If you want me to break things off with him…” Owain began a sentence and it took way too many seconds for Inigo to piece it together in his brain.

“Wh…what? N-Niles? No, don’t. He doesn’t…. he doesn’t deserve that. You’re soulmates anyway, just… don’t break up with him on my account.” It wouldn’t have been fair anyway. Niles had a date that night. Even if everyone else in that family knew that Inigo was going to get dumped… Niles hadn’t. Niles had a date, Niles had to break his plans. He surely wouldn’t have made plans just to cancel them.

He didn’t think he had it in him to hate Niles. He didn’t think he had it in him to hate any of them, but he certainly wanted to. He wanted to be mad, and to hate them all. He wanted to hate Xander. But he didn’t. “I just… love him so much, Owain.” Inigo whispered. How was he supposed to cope with this? “I… How long do I have to stay in here..?”

Owain seemed confused for a second, but once he understood he reached out and put his hand on the back of Inigo’s neck, like he was taking his temperature there. Maybe there was some science-y medical trick about that he didn't know? Inigo didn't care, but he tensed at the touch. (He didn't know why.) Owain shrugged his shoulders, and he frowned at Inigo. “Maybe just a few more minutes. I just want you to warm up a little. You felt like ice. I’ll… go make some coffee, alright?”

Inigo nodded his head numbly. He wanted coffee. He wanted something to warm him up. Owain walked away and Inigo sighed and shifted so that he could sink his whole body under the water. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could drown out all of the thoughts swimming in his head, or any memories of how happy he was that morning.

…

There was a marathon of funny videos on that night. Owain turned it on because he wasn’t sure what else to turn on, no doubt. It turned out that watching a seemingly endless surplus of people getting whacked by children with whiffle bats or falling off of trampolines was sort of calming medicine. It forced his lips to twitch up into a smile now and then, even when Inigo didn’t want them to.

He had a blanket draped over his shoulders but also had one laid over his lap with Owain. Owain had rubbed his legs for a while, the way he did when Inigo danced… but this time Inigo thought he was just trying to encourage his blood to flow and his legs to warm up. He kept the mug of coffee in his hand, even when he wasn’t drinking it. He wanted to feel the heat from the mug burn his palms.

They didn’t talk about it any further. There was nothing to say. Inigo’s soulmate didn’t want him and… that was the end of it. Sometimes soulmates didn’t work out. Sometimes they were meant to be platonic. Sometimes they hated each other. Inigo had no idea what he was supposed to feel about Xander.

He tried not to think about him. He tried to focus on the television and on Owain chatting about the newest plot he was working on, for the next in his series of books. He couldn’t focus. He knew Owain didn’t expect him to pay attention, anyway.

Inigo spent the new year with Owain and that was honestly the same thing he did every year (although he missed Lissa’s excitement and party poppers and he missed Maribelle insisting they try to remain dignified instead of spill champagne all over the tile). However… When the minute hand and the hour hand met on the 12 at the top of the clock on the wall… Well they could hear fireworks outside, and the cheers of people in other apartments…

…and Inigo was acutely aware that he had never been farther away from being kissed at midnight in his entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whelp there it is this is where all the fluff has led 
> 
> hi my name is iggy i will be ruining your day nice to meet you


	7. 7. January and February

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The month Inigo's dream came true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible typos ahead whoop. It's past my bedtime and moving was a pain.

_January and February_

Every breath that Inigo had ever taken in his entire life had led him to that moment, where he stood in front of that woman. She was breathtaking. She was tall and slender and the dress she wore perfectly suited to the style of dancing she specialized in… and he hardly could believe he was there, watching her chest heave with each of her breaths, watching her smile in spite of her panting. He could have memorized the way her skin shimmered with just a hint of sweat and a layer of glitter and the lights reflecting off of her…

 

January hadn’t exactly been easy. Nothing really would ever compare to the pain that Inigo felt when he was left alone in the snow with a broken heart. He didn’t know if he would ever get over that, either. Owain told him every time he asked that it would get better… but how should he know? He had never had his heart broken like that before, and he certainly hadn’t been left behind by his soulmate.

Inigo just hadn’t been given the opportunity to cope with it, though. Most people, Inigo thought, went through a process. In movies they always lounged in bed in their underwear and with unwashed hair and ate junk food until the pain was gone. Inigo thought when it happened he would do the same. He thought he would cry for days until he couldn’t anymore. Maybe if he cried hard enough he would have been able to wash away the memory of feather light kisses on his eyelids, telling him everything would be alright. Maybe he could wash away the memory of being in love.

Owain didn’t let Inigo cry about it, though. Not for long. Instead of wasting away in a pile of Lays potato chips and cosmopolitan ice cream, Inigo was forced out of the house not a whole two days after he was dumped. At first Inigo thought it was a waste of time. He wanted to go back home. Then he found out _why_.

Owain signed him up for an audition. That wasn’t unfamiliar. Owain auditioned for parts in plays rather frequently (his books were hardly famous enough to make him wealthy) and when he found parts he thought Inigo would excel at he usually jotted his name down too. Owain was the one who signed him up for the local Nutcracker ballet Inigo had performed in a few years before. What was unfamiliar about this audition was that it was not just a local ballet. Owain signed Inigo up for an audition for a ballet that would perform in Cyrkensia.

Inigo was sure he would fail. There was nothing he could do to stop that thought from settling in his stomach like a brick. There was no way, he thought, that he could perform… not there. His mother performed there. Even with those thoughts, he sat down and watched the demonstration in an auditorium filled with a few other local dancers who would likely seek the same part. Owain watched it with him, he let Inigo squeeze his hand when he realized just _which_ ballet this was. It was no coincidence that he had been signed up for this audition. This was the last ballet his mother performed before she retired to raise him. This was _Manon._ It was Owain who pushed him to take the steps closer to the person handing out the audition parts and it was Owain who convinced him to reach out and take a copy of the choreography and script.

The moment he wrapped his fingers around the packet of information he knew he had to do it. He _had to get this part_. He didn’t care about his feelings or his heartbreak or his own limitations. All he cared about was the ballet. He cared about standing on the same stage his mother once stood on, acting out the same story she once starred in. Love didn’t matter—how could it? He was finally given the chance to chase his dream!

His brother was a gift the whole time. Inigo owed him a thousand thank you notes, at least a hundred hours of watching any dorky anime he wanted, and he probably needed to do Owain’s laundry for a month. Owain read the lines, helped him rehearse the part. He critiqued his technique fairly and he reviewed the choreography with him, and when it came down to it he even stood in as an impromptu dance partner (in spite of being far from a prized dancer). Owain truly deserved the moon and stars…

…But there was no doubt that Inigo deserved the world. He had only just over a week to practice for that audition and in that short time he pushed himself to his limits and far beyond. Every twist he made, every relevé, they brought back fond memories of his mother that were usually hidden behind the worst day of his life. They brought back Olivia’s soft touch under his chin, telling him to be brave and smile while he performed. They brought back her kisses on his nose telling him that he could be anyone or anything he wanted or dreamed.

He pushed himself until his chest burned with each inhale and his muscles screamed. He danced until his legs turned to noodles…and even farther when he could. He pushed himself until, come the end of the day, he was reduced to soaking in a hot bath and saying a little prayer that the soreness would dissipate.

Inigo had never really wanted anything in his life quite as much as he wanted to get that part. He really thought, once upon a time, that the most important thing in his world would be finding love. He thought it would be the familiar embrace of strong arms and broad shoulders behind him, and a kiss left on top of his head. He thought his future was wrapped up in the arms of a man who cherished him and treated him like a treasure but… he had been wrong. He had been wrong about Xander just like he was wrong about every other relationship he had ever been in. Love was… elusive, to say the least.

Inigo didn’t have time to think about Xander because he was so focused on thinking about his audition, and when the day of the audition came he was more nervous than he had been in his entire life. Far scarier than the eyes of Xander’s siblings staring at him were the eyes of the woman producing the ballet.

She was very famous. Inigo recognized her by name before he saw her face, but he certainly recognized her then, too. She was only a few years older than himself, and her name was Azura. She was producing the ballet but Inigo knew she was also going to play the leading role herself. That role was the same one that Olivia once danced. When she called his name he followed her back to the stage where the demonstration was performed and, to his surprise, she took up the dancing stance for her role. Inigo supposed he hadn’t expected she would be dancing with him, during the audition, but he saw the value in it.

Azura said it gave her a feel for the dancers. Inigo knew that had to be true, because as he danced with Azura he got a distinct understanding of the way she danced. His movements were like his mother, always graceful and twisting like a ribbon blowing through the wind. Azura’s dance was like water, flowing smooth and transitioning easily from one step to the next.

When he danced with Azura his week of pushing himself so hard it hurt became worth it. They fell into step together beautifully. Every turn fell into place and it was _perfect_. It went better than Inigo could have dared to hope for. He had absolute no regrets about it, he was sure. Olivia would have been proud of him. When it was through Inigo thanked Azura for her time and shook her hand with a gracious wink. He slipped away and relief flooded him, at first. It was over. The audition was done and he couldn’t do a thing more. He would have to wait and see what happened.

Right after relief came a wave of something else, though. Something far less expected. _Sorrow_. Inigo was slapped in the face with grief and for a second he wasn’t sure why. He stumbled through the building until he found a public restroom and ducked inside. He pushed himself into the lone stall and sat down on the lid of the toilet (and he thought it wasn’t the grossest toilet he’d ever seen before) and he cried.

The weight of the last two weeks fell hard on his shoulders when it caught up with him. Without the pressure of practicing and reaching his goals to distract him, he was caught off guard by the wound Xander had inflicted on his heart resurfacing.

 

Of course the challenges of January hardly ended with the audition. Inigo’s eyes ghosted over her form but only a handful of seconds later the curtains began to shift and she reached out her hand for him to take. He reached for her, clasped their hands together. They faced the rising curtain and in unison they rose both their arms to the air and their bodies en pointe.

 

A few days after his audition Inigo had lunch with his aunts and with Owain. Brady had meant to join them too, but he got roped into picking up a shift at the hospital and there was just about nothing to be done about that. Inigo missed Brady. He saw Owain every day and granted he was much closer with his best friend, but Brady was still their older brother. Inigo thought that he saw him less and less lately. He supposed that was just the way the healthcare industry worked but… part of him was bitter that work came between him and his family. After all… work had very likely been what came between himself and Xander. (Then again, he had no idea. Xander broke up with him seemingly out of the blue. There was a fair chance that he just thought Inigo was bad in bed, if he was honest with himself.)

Even without Brady there Inigo still enjoyed having lunch with his aunts. Maribelle always insisted she take them to a fancy little bistro. They served European teas and she always knew just when to stop them from steeping any further. Inigo loved having tea with Maribelle. He thought she may have been the one who really got him into it. Brady enjoyed tea as well. Owain had a little bit more of a sweet tooth, like Lissa, but he enjoyed _some_ teas. Inigo supposed that was how he always remembered his aunts though… warm tea and fresh chocolate chip cookies.

Ylisse wasn’t like Nohr. It was a place full of sunshine and happiness and even though it was the middle of winter it just felt _warmer_. Everyone smiled and knew each other’s names and asked about their families. It was a four hour drive from home to visit but it was always worth it because Lissa and Maribelle never failed to make Inigo smile and relax. Lissa was a ball of sunshine. Even when other people dressed in darker, richer shades for the winter she wore bright yellows and sun dresses. Inigo loved her for her unending enthusiasm and optimism and… well, he thought (for the first time) that perhaps Elise had been so easy to love because to some degree she reminded him of one of the women who raised him. (He supposed even if he wanted to, it was hard to hate Elise.)

Lissa was a pediatric nurse. Unlike Brady she worked a regular 8-5 shift and she spent most of her time helping kids who were less than twelve. That said she knew the way to cure just about anything, and Inigo and Owain both called her all the time to ask for advice when they first moved out of her house. Anything from what to take for a migraine to how many tums you were allowed to take in one day if you had the stomach flu… she was always full of answers and more than willing to share.

Maribelle was always up to date with the latest fashions and trends but that did nothing to put a dent in her intelligence. She was smart, beautiful, and wise. Maribelle was a lawyer who specialized mostly in work related injuries. She was very strong with debate and honestly as a result it was almost impossible to argue with her when she was raising them. Her strong opinions and tone were never misplaced, however, and Inigo could recall her warm hugs many times throughout his life.

Owain was listening to Lissa while she babbled away about something or other. Owain took after Lissa just a little more than he did Maribelle in personality, but both women showed up in both of their sons. Lissa, Inigo realized, was asking Owain about his books. This was not the first time she’d bothered him about it since they arrived. It turned out she had been lying about having actually read them, the last three years of his life… and Inigo would never forget how offended Owain looked when she admitted that. It was actually quite funny. She said she thought it would just be more of his “boring jibber jabber”. It turned out that once she actually read them, she loved them, and she was more than a little eager to find out what was going to happen to her favorite characters.

Owain was having the time of his life not telling her. In fact, Inigo thought he was almost having _too_ much fun. He didn’t bother to stop it though. He was enjoying it too, to some degree, and he was happy to just watch his family bicker playfully and sip the strawberry tea that Maribelle had ordered for him. He lifted it to his mouth to take a sip and burnt his tongue when his phone began to ring.

It was startling! His phone almost never rang! Everyone he really knew texted instead of calling, and he didn’t give out his cellphone number to bill collectors or businesses… but when he looked at the number and saw the area code his stomach did a little flip flop because it was a call from Cyrkensia.

Maribelle looked at Inigo overtop her cup of tea and raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow at him. “Inigo, darling, it’s horribly rude to have your phone with you at the dinner table.” She said it smoothly as she took her sip of tea. It wasn’t so much a stern or scolding voice, just a judgmental comment, but it wasn’t at all unloving. It also wasn’t unloving when Inigo entirely ignored her. He lifted the phone to his ear and answered it with a timid voice, but he still found it in him to smile when his aunt’s mouth fell open into a tiny, perfect ‘o’ shape. “Well! I thought you had better manners than this!” She exclaimed, albeit quietly so as not to disturb the call.

“Yes, this is he.” Inigo spoke softly into the phone. Not because he didn’t want to be heard but because… well his whole family was staring right at him! It was embarrassing, and it brought out the timid part of him. While he spoke he felt a weight on his side, and a glance told him that Lissa was pressed against his arm, and had her ear against the other side of his phone trying to listen in. His lips turned up into another tiny smile when she wrapped her arms around his, and took his hand. He thought he likely appreciated that gesture far more than she knew.

Azura’s voice was melodic in his ear, just like her dancing had been when they met for the first time. She seemed so calm, and almost… closed off… but she’d been nothing but kind. _“Inigo, you did so well at your audition! You know, you also looked very familiar to me, and then I realized it’s because I knew your mom! Did you know I went to your mother’s ballet classes when I was a little girl? She gave me my start in my career. I’ll bet anything we’ve met before. It’s a small world.”_

Honestly Inigo wasn’t sure what to say to that. He supposed it was very possible they had met once or twice before. He often took the classes his mother taught, too. He was… thrilled that Azura knew her. Part of him was always beyond ecstatic when someone knew his mom, could speak to what an amazing woman she was. “Ah, well isn’t that something?” He asked, and he felt Lissa’s grip on his hand tighten. He wondered what that meant.

_“Yes, I thought so. Please, I would like to offer you the part of des Grieux in our production. I think it must have been fate that brought you to that audition and your dancing was nothing short of spectacular.”_

Lissa made a noise akin to a muted squeal beside him. Inigo supposed he knew, somewhat, when he answered the phone. Why would she have called him to reject him, after all? He still couldn’t do a thing to hide the wide, dopey smile spreading across his face. He certainly couldn’t find the will to raise his hand or cover his mouth. Instead he used that hand to hold up a finger at Owain—who was already opening his mouth to ask what was going on. “R-Really? That’s—that’s incredible!”

It really was. That was the male lead, that was a role with solo dances. He had impressed Azura enough that she wanted him to dance a leading role in her performance… and he was ecstatic. Part of him wondered if any of it had to do with Olivia teaching her as a child, or if his mother’s name gave him favor. He hoped it didn’t, to some degree, because he wanted to have earned this on his own, but… he wouldn’t be able to be mad if his mother had done him a favor from heaven. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to be the one to tell Azura that his mother was dead.

_“Absolutely! If you’ll meet me this Friday we can go over your contract, and we’ll begin rehearsals on Monday. I will email you the rest of that information. Thank you so much, Inigo!”_

Saying goodbye was something of a blur for Inigo. He honestly couldn’t believe this was happening. He had worked so hard for so long… and there he was, getting the part. Lissa threw her arms around his neck and nearly knocked him out of his chair with her enthusiasm. She giggled at him when she said “You did it!”

Maribelle and Owain seemed to catch on quickly enough, because they both had smiles on their faces. Maribelle reached out and overlaid Inigo’s hand with a dainty glove and asked, just to be certain. “You were given the part?”

With just a nod of Inigo’s head Maribelle clapped her hands together and sucked in an excited breath. Owain was no less thrilled. Inigo thought again that he needed to thank him twice over, because if he hadn’t pushed Inigo to take such a big risk it would never have paid off so well. Owain reached out and shoved Inigo’s shoulder gently, and he said “Aha! A silhouette dances across the stage, but who is this magnificent performer? None other than _Inigo of the Indigo Skies_ , come to sweep his audience clean off their feet!”

Owain continued to go on about whatever it was he was saying. Lissa and Maribelle were already deciding what hotel they wanted to stay at to see the first show. Inigo wasn’t listening to any of them, really.

He had done it. He got the part. The male lead in a ballet that would perform in the very same theatre where his mother performed. He wasn’t worried about being famous (although this could very well be his big break, if he wanted to further that career), but he was just so happy to finally live up to her. He was so happy that he could make her proud. He could practically hear her delicate little voice gasping and telling him how proud she was.

Cyrkensia was going to know his name. For half of a second Inigo thought about Xander again, about how he always encouraged Inigo when he spoke of his dream to dance. He sort of wished he knew, maybe. He wasn’t sure why. He didn’t know that it mattered at all, but he still looked down at his phone thoughtfully.

Carefully he brushed his thumb over the crack in the screen. He’d never gotten it fixed after it fell that day. There was a new model of his phone coming out soon enough and it seemed silly to waste money repairing this one when he would inevitably upgrade. Plus… maybe part of him thought he deserved it, the constant reminder of his hands shaking and the phone crashing to the sidewalk.

Would Xander have really even cared if he got the part or not? Inigo bit his bottom lip and thought about the many times they went dancing together. They had gone every week for so long that Inigo had grown very comfortable with his arms around Xander. While they danced they often spoke softly of daydreams or favorite places to eat or other silly nothings. He thought about Xander’s hand on his hip—always and very deliberately resting over the words there—while they swayed in time with music. He thought about how Xander’s touch made his skin burn… and he missed it.

What would happen if he texted him? Inigo wondered if Xander would be happy for him. Would he be proud, even? Inigo had never truly done that, he thought, made Xander proud. He’d always encouraged Inigo to dance, even when he admitted that he didn’t think he was good enough to ever perform on a larger scale. He’d always tipped up his chin and kissed the apple of his cheek and told him he was an incredible dancer. Once he’d asked Inigo to show him his mother’s dance. Inigo felt a sense of regret knowing that he never had the chance to share it with him. (And part of him wondered if Xander still wore that wine colored earring in his ear. Had he taken it out the moment they broke up? It seemed unfair that Inigo never danced his mother’s dance for Xander and held up his end of that deal.)

What would happen if Inigo just sent him a small message? He could say something like ‘hey, I know we haven’t talked in two weeks, but something amazing just happened’. Would Xander reply? Would he ask him what happened, or just ignore him like it never notified him of the text? When he broke up with Inigo he hadn’t exactly phrased it delicately. He didn’t make it sound like there was room for them to be friends. He made it sound like they were over, for good. Forever.

Inigo glanced up because he had the distinct feeling someone was staring at him. It was Owain. He felt his eyes burning on him before he knew for certain, but once he did he dipped his head to one side. Owain’s face was so hard to read (and that was uncommon for him) because he looked almost concerned, but… why should he be? “Owain..?”

“Are you okay?” Owain asked. His voice was unexpectedly soft, like he was trying not to draw the attention of his mothers. “You look like you’re about to cry.”

 _What?_ Inigo reached up and touched his eyelashes with his fingertips. Sure enough they were damp, but he was able to blink away any tears before they fell. He hadn’t even noticed. Not really. He shook his head side to side slowly, and he forced a big, bright smile on his face for his brother. “I’m… I’m fine. I’m just so happy… and mom would be so happy too!”

Owain seemed reassured by the white lie. He nodded his head and flashed him an incredibly confident smile. “You’re right. She’d be ecstatic! I bet she is, even still.”

Inigo looked at his phone again. He pressed the button on the side in with his thumb and the screen went dark. He decided not to text him. He was sure. If Xander cared even a shred about him and his hopes and his dreams and his life he probably wouldn’t have dumped him like that. Especially not alone and in public. He slid the phone back into his pocket just in time, too, because Lissa stood up and pulled him to his feet fast. At first he was worried and he looked down at her with just a hint of concern in his eyes. Then he realized what she was up to, when she took his hands and tugged on his arms.

Perhaps normally he would be shy about dancing like an idiot in public with his aunt, but today was a happy day. It was a sign that good things were coming, he was sure of it. He took Lissa’s hands and span her around on her toes, and he was more than happy to dip her and tell her she was an inspiration.

 

The lights were bright shining down on them. The spotlights met in the center of the stage for them and he held his breath because the sound of cheering was so loud he could hardly hear himself think. He was _happy_. He was so happy he had worked so hard to get there, but there had been so many hurdles. January was honestly a color palate of ups and downs swirled together. 

 

Inigo could remember meeting her again at a yogurt bar. She chose to discuss the terms of the contract there, and he wondered if that was because she just enjoyed the sort of childish task of choosing the toppings for her yogurt. Something about it was sort of fun… but Inigo also never really spent much time in yogurt bars. Yogurt was cheaper at the grocery store by a mile.

Azura was as beautiful then as she was before. She smiled at him and twirled her spoon in her yogurt while she pointed out the different parts of the contract. “We rehearse Monday through Friday every week for eight hours.” She began, and Inigo realized right away he was going to have to quit his job teaching yoga at the gym. He didn’t mind, this was going to be an incredible career. He just worried that the nice man and woman who owned the little gym would be disappointed he didn’t put in proper notice. “And we start our tour in Cyrkensia, and end there as well. We’ll travel through most of the continent. You will be paid for performances in sets. Each set consists of eight performances, or the Friday and Saturday of each week in a month. You are only paid for your completed sets, not your individual performances, so be sure to keep that in mind.”

While she explained Inigo tried to take everything in stride. It would be strange to travel, to not live with Owain for a few months, but it was also sort of exciting. He nodded his head to everything she said, and he signed his name everywhere she asked him. Finally she pulled away the paperwork and tucked it into her folder. “There we go, it’s official.” She reached out her hand to shake his as she stood up. “I’m so excited to work with you, Inigo. I’ll see you Monday!”

The moment she left Inigo slumped his head into his hands. Everything was happening fast and it was all very real to him. The monthly pay, the traveling, the rehearsals starting in just two days… this was his dream job, but it was also a reminder that maybe there was a hint of fate behind his and Xander’s break up. After all, how could he have been in a healthy relationship if he was off traveling and Xander was at work at all hours? He supposed it would have fallen apart whether or not Xander dumped him.

He wasn’t focused on that, anymore. By then he had tried his best to stop crying about Xander. It was over. He had been perfect while he lasted but the moment had passed. He pushed away the thought the best he could and instead started to put away his own copies of their paperwork into his backpack. It was honestly the same backpack he had used in college, a somewhat worn messenger bag with a little stain on the side where he’d spilt coffee once or twice. He had only barely zipped up the bag when his heart skipped a beat and he was damn near tackled from behind.

“ _Inigo!_ I missed you!”

Inigo sucked in a gasp and caught himself before he fell, but he didn’t want to turn around to face the owner of the voice. He knew who it was right away, of course. He’d spent more than his fair share of time playing dress up and having tea parties with the little boy. When he finally mustered up the courage he twisted in his grip, and Forrest looked just as adorable as ever.

It was with a very great hesitance that Inigo crouched down and wrapped his arms around the boy. Very gently, because he didn’t want to hurt him (or even look like he would lay an unloving finger on him). He looked up nervously and he laid eyes on Leo. He had his arms crossed and his brow raised like he was surprised they had bumped into Inigo there. Which was… fair, because Inigo had never really been there before. He glanced around and a breath of relief left him when he realized they were alone. Xander wasn’t there.

(Part of him was a little disappointed, he thought. Maybe if Xander had been there it would have forced him to face his fears and ask him why it ended the way it did. The other part of him was just so glad he didn’t have to look at him. Xander had always looked at Inigo like he was something beautiful and precious, and he couldn’t imagine those same red-wine eyes looking at him as if he was yesterday’s news.)

“I… I missed you too, Forrest.” Inigo forced out the words but they almost caught in his throat. He wasn’t lying by any means. He did miss playing with Forrest in the snow. He just admittedly missed Xander more, and he was nervous about the look Leo was giving him. It was very curious. He wanted to say something to Leo, really. He wanted to say hi. It just was taking its sweet time coming out of his mouth.

Leo looked just as uncomfortable. Curious to see Inigo, but uncomfortable. He was obviously trying not to frown (Inigo could see his lip twitching) and his hands shifted so they were in the pockets of his pants before Inigo finally broke the silence between them. “It’s good to see you, Leo.” He said it smoothly enough, surprising as that may be. Forrest backed up out of his arms but he hardly went far.

It was crazy. It had only been a few weeks but Inigo was sure that he hadn’t seen them in months. Forrest’s hair was a little longer, he thought. He missed seeing them often. He missed seeing them for dinner every week. He missed being part of their family. Leo looked at him and then he sighed, but Inigo didn’t fail to notice that he had a tiny smile on his face when he said “It’s good to see you too.”

He wanted to say something else. Inigo, that was. He stood there looking at Leo with his lips barely parted and his thoughts focused entirely on Xander. Suddenly he had an opportunity he hadn’t had before. Suddenly he could ask him. He could find out why. He opened his mouth and sucked in a breath like he was going to just blurt out the question but it hitched in his throat and he reconsidered. Did he want to know why, really? What if it was something Inigo had done? What if he hadn’t been good enough, really?

He closed his mouth and snorted out a short, uncomfortable sigh too. He wanted to know why Xander broke things off between them the way he did, but he just didn’t have the strength to ask. Not really. “I should…” He began, but he could see Leo staring at him and it made him look away with a blush. “Er…”

“That woman who just left, she’s very famous. Are you…” Leo started to ask a question but it faded away. Inigo looked back at him and just as their eyes met Leo cleared his throat. “Are you performing in Cyrkensia?”

“Oh—well—yes. Starting on the first of February.”

Inigo watched as Leo’s smile shifted from uncomfortable to something very genuine. It was a smile that was somewhat similar to his brother’s in that regard. It was easy—too easy—to tell when it was real. Inigo relaxed a little when Leo said “That’s incredible, Inigo! I’m…” …But then he stopped. He got quiet for a second, just a tiny hesitation. He added “I’m very happy for you.”

Inigo wondered if Xander would have said the same thing. He wondered if he would have cared all over again. Was it possible? Would he really still have even the slightest interest in Inigo, even as just an old friend? It didn’t seem possible.

Again he wanted to ask, but he just couldn’t do it. The words got stuck in his throat, and his heart clenched at the thought. _Why did Xander leave me?_ He nodded his head, and he put a polite smile on his face, and he knew it would be much harder to tell that it wasn’t genuine. “I should get home. Enjoy your yogurt, Forrest. And thank you, Leo.”

 

The curtains came down for good this time, the curtain call said and done, and Inigo could barely catch his breath. The sound of cheering was drowning out most of his thoughts, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the road that led him there. It was absolutely impossible to ignore. He had worked so hard for that moment. They all had.

 

Only a week before the first performance Inigo was the one who answered the door when Niles arrived. He was there to meet Owain, for a date no doubt, but Owain wasn’t home yet. He had a meeting with his publisher, and he was running late. It was alright. Inigo obviously wasn’t a stranger with Niles, he’d known the man first. He let him in and went back to sitting on the couch.

Niles stood a little awkwardly off to the side, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to sit down or not yet. Maybe he was holding out hope that Owain would show up and they could just slip out without any awkward conversations? That wasn’t going to be the case.

“Aren’t you two chummy lately?” Inigo asked with a smirk planted firmly on his lips. Owain had offered to break up with Niles the day that Xander dumped Inigo. He had done it so that Inigo wouldn’t have to watch his best friend date his ex’s brother. It… wouldn’t have been worth it, Inigo thought. He wouldn’t have wanted to see another set of soulmates split apart. He also didn’t think Owain would have been able to do it, not really. He had grown rather fond of his soulmate rather quickly—he took Niles and his odd innuendos and attitude in stride.

“He probably cursed me.” Niles answered, and Inigo imagined that was exactly the sort of thing someone who truly knew Owain would say. In fact he thought if Owain was there he would have ecstatic about it, and gone on a tangent about how curses really worked, and determined if it was a hex or a curse or a blessing.

Inigo thought it was a blessing to be in love with someone who was made for you. “Mm, no. I think you must be enchanted by your soulmate.”

Although Inigo smiled at Niles he supposed it wasn’t a lie. Owain had offered to break things off, and Inigo had declined, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t been hard to watch his best friend fall in love. Well—Inigo said love. He couldn’t have known how serious their relationship was, outside of what Owain told him. He just knew that when he was in a relationship with _his_ soulmate, he fell in love fast and hard.

He wondered if Niles could read his mind because he looked uncomfortable before Inigo even asked him the question. He also wondered where his bravery came from because the week before he hadn’t been able to ask Leo—even though he had wanted to. “Do you… do you know why… why he..?”

Niles shook his head from side to side and he crossed his arms. He looked very defensive in that position. Inigo frowned at him, when he said “As far as I know he hasn’t given any of us a clear reason.” Niles walked closer to Inigo and took a seat on the sofa beside him.

Inigo wasn’t very satisfied with that answer. He tilted his head to watch Niles take his seat, and then he looked down and watched him lean on his knees and fold his hands together, casually. There was a whole cushion of couch between them, they were by no means that close together, but it felt almost embarrassing. Almost like a reminder of how close they stood at that Christmas Eve-Eve party. When things were better. “What _did_ he say, then..?”

“He said he wasn’t in…” Niles started the sentence but he stopped himself and shook his head no. “You know what? I’d hate to be considered a gossip.” Niles didn’t finish the sentence and Inigo didn’t know whether to focus on the flattery or the fact. On the one hand Niles loved to deliver bad news. He got a weird, twisted pleasure out of it. The fact that he spared Inigo’s feelings must have meant he cared about him.

On the other hand, he didn’t have to finish that sentence. Not really. Inigo knew what he was going to say. He was going to say ‘in love’. _He said he wasn’t in love_. He closed his mouth and sat back into the sofa a little bit. His heart started racing again, the way it had when he was broken up with. He nodded his head slowly, because he wasn’t at all strong enough to find real words. Niles shook his head slowly from one side to the other. “You didn’t deserve that, Inigo. I chewed his ass out about standing you up—if that makes it any better.”

It didn’t make him feel any better. It made him want to cry. He wanted to cry because it made everything more real. Xander stood him up on purpose, he must have if he said that to his siblings. How could he say that? Had he really never loved Inigo? Had all of that been a lie? Inigo still thought he was in love, in spite of _everything_ he had been through. He didn’t cry, though. He bit his lip and swallowed a knot in his throat and stood up to walk to the desk where Owain wrote most of his stories.

Xander wasn’t in love with him. That was what he said. Inigo supposed he had to have known that. If he had been in love the way Inigo was, he wouldn’t have wanted to part for ten minutes, let alone forever. It made sense. Inigo supposed he just wished it had been different. He wished it had been the pressure of balancing his family and his job and his free time. He wished it could be something—anything really—to blame but himself.

He reached into the bottom drawer of the desk. It was a mess of Owain’s notes and drafts and all sorts of junk that had accumulated over time, but the bottom left drawer… that was for Inigo’s junk exclusively. From it he pulled out an envelope, and he started to walk back to Niles. He could see discomfort on his face. He wasn’t sure why until Niles spoke up. “Please don’t make me give a letter to Xander.”

Inigo’s heart stopped for a second when Niles said his name out loud. A letter to Xander? That hadn’t crossed his mind. He supposed if he wanted he could have sent him one, but… why bother? At this point it was clear things were over. If Xander had reconsidered his decision he would have been the first person to apologize, Inigo thought. Or at least… he used to think he was easy to read. Maybe he had been wrong.

But that was all it was. The past. Inigo forced a smile onto his face and it was the hardest smile he’d ever faked in his life. He extended the envelope to Niles and rasped “Nothing like that.” He said it remarkably smoothly considering how badly the idea hurt. He honestly felt like he couldn’t breathe, to some extent. He’d felt like that a lot, lately. Usually Owain was able to calm him down but… he suspected this had more to do with the magic of soulmates than it had to do with his anxiety. “They gave me five tickets to my first show. I’m giving the other three to my aunts and to Brady, but I thought you… might want these. For you and Owain, of course. These seats are in a balcony, they’re not next to my aunts, I promise.”

Niles pulled the tickets out of the envelope and looked them over. Inigo supposed he was waiting for some sort of verdict, to know if Niles would like to go or not. He didn’t know why it mattered to him so much. Maybe because Niles was the only one of Xander’s siblings that Inigo thought he could still be friends with? Or maybe because he knew that Owain’s soulmate would likely be part of his life forever, and they may as well move past this awkward hump as soon as possible.

“I’ve never gone to one of these before.” He said. Inigo thought that made sense. Leo mentioned that their father used to take them to Cyrkensia frequently as children, but Leo and Niles had both mentioned more than once that Garon did not include Corrin or Niles on those trips. Niles because he was not technically his child. In spite of the fact that Niles grew up practically living in Garon’s home, and certainly living in Xander’s later, he wasn’t legally tied to any of them. Corrin was adopted, unlike the rest of Garon’s children, and it seemed that with time he stopped treating her like one of his children and started treating her like a burden.

Inigo couldn’t imagine, really. His aunts had adopted him legally shortly after his mother died. He wasn’t biologically related to either of them at all, in spite of calling them ‘aunts’, but… they had always been nothing but loving. He could still vividly remember Lissa barreling past police officers to get into that kitchen and pull him out of the cupboard, and he could also recall a house fire a couple of years later in which Maribelle walked through a wall of fire to get Inigo out of his room. (Actually he thought his memories were romanticizing that. He was sure that it was less fire than he thought, but she certainly walked through a wall of smoke to ensure that he was safe.)

Needless to say he thought if either of them ever called him a burden he would be devastated. He couldn’t imagine their love having an expiration date, the way Garon’s had. He looked at Niles again and thought about how he had never been taken to nice theatres. Honestly Inigo had only gone once or twice in his whole life. That said, he _had_ been to local theatres about a thousand times, and so he smiled at him. “Well you’ll just have to get used to it. Owain loves theatre, you know. I think he’d have done opera if he wasn’t such a horrible singer.”

Niles made a noise that Inigo thought was a chuckle, and Inigo smiled for him when he tucked the tickets back into the envelope and nodded his head. “I can’t think of anything that sounds more boring than an opera.”

 

Back stage after the performance was chaotic. A lot of people were rushing back to see their friends or family who had performed that evening. Inigo thought it was strange his aunts hadn’t made it back there yet. He was surprised when Azura threw her arms around him. Not so surprised he didn’t chuckle and wrap her in a hug as well. “You did incredible.” She told him.

She was beautiful, he thought. Glitter and sweat and a bit of frizz in her hair but he didn’t think it took away from her magnificence. With her hair pulled up in braids and a bun the way it was, it was styled just like his mother loved to wear. It was familiar, but not enough. Azura hardly looked anything like Olivia had at all, of course. It was only a passing thought.

He stepped away from her embrace and she disappeared to go speak with the other performers. He watched her go and thought about the roller coaster that had been the last month. It was over, of course. This was the first of February, this was the start of his new career.

He had been nervous to go out on stage when it began. Butterflies flew through his stomach like lightning and part of him wished he had the time to throw up before the performance, but… he was alright. The stupidest memory he had of Xander came to mind, and he hated to admit that his soulmate had carried him through the performance when he had clearly abandoned him, but the evidence was plain as day. He remembered a day when Xander mentioned being once-shy about speaking publicly. Of course, for his job he gave frequent speeches to both media and also company employees. He said he thought of kittens.

Every single one of them as little kittens with a jingle bell collar around their neck and Xander thought it was impossible to be intimidated by a crowd of kittens. Inigo thought so too, and so he laughed at the time. That night of the performance, however, he took his ex-lover’s advice. It worked.

“There y’are!” Inigo felt arms wrap around him from behind before he heard the voice, but he wasn’t scared when he did. The arms wrapped firm around his midriff and picked him up, the twirl was awkward and only lasted a second. (Brady wasn’t actually as strong as his height made him seem.)

When his feet were back on the ground Inigo pushed himself into Brady’s arms and gave him a real hug. He hadn’t seen him since Christmas and he had _missed him_. He had been worried that maybe Brady wouldn’t have enough notice to get off work for this. “You made it!”

“Never miss it.” Brady said. He stepped out of the embrace and Inigo opened his mouth to say something. Then he saw something that made all the words catch in his throat. It was just a flash of blonde hair and a dark coat but he sidestepped Brady altogether so he could watch that man walk away.

His gait was so familiar. The way he moved—albeit swiftly—was absolutely unforgettable. Inigo sucked in a breath. He had to call out to him, didn’t he? That had to be him—there was no way that wasn’t Xander. What was he doing there? Had he known Inigo was performing? Was it just a coincidence that he was there? But if it was a coincidence… why was he backstage? Was that _really_ Xander?

“Are y’okay?” Brady asked. Inigo closed his mouth. Xander was out of sight (if it even _was_ Xander) and Inigo had to push his bangs out of his face and take a few more breaths before he turned to look at his brother. Brady put a hand against his cheek. “Yer all flushed. Maybe ya need ta sit.”

“I…I think…” Inigo tried to say it. He tried to make the words come out, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t believe it was real. He’d hallucinated it—it was just some other man walking away. In that same coat. With that same gorgeous hair. He clenched his fists and thought if he imagined hard enough he could still feel it soft and tangled in his fingers. “I’m alright. Just a little tired from the show.”

“Ya did great!”

“Not just great!” Inigo turned to the side and his surprise softened into a smile when Owain and his date appeared. “He did spectacular! You outshined even the stars tonight!”

“Hush.” Inigo cleared his throat and tried not to blush at the praise from his brothers, but he couldn’t hide the pink in his cheeks when Niles offered him a familiar grin (one that meant his flattery was solely for the purpose of embarrassing him) and added one of his own.

“No, they’re right. You looked ravishing out there. I almost—Oh.”

Inigo was sort of glad when Niles stopped talking. He was also caught off guard, though, and so he turned his attention to the man who was suddenly looking at his phone. He looked concerned for a second… but he backed up few steps to answer it.

It was rude to stare and Inigo knew that better than anyone but he was still staring at Niles and watching his conversation. He couldn’t really hear most of it, but he knew something was very wrong. He could tell in the way Niles’ smile faded away and turned into a tight, straight line. He could tell in the way his eyes got glossy—so glossy that Inigo thought he was going to cry, for a second. He said “I’ll be right there.” He hung up.

He looked at Inigo then, like he was going to say something. Maybe to finish his earlier sentence? He didn’t. He shook his head no before Inigo had even forced out the words “Is everything alright?”

“No. I… I’ve got to go.” He glanced at Owain, and so did Inigo. Inigo couldn’t really remember seeing that look on Owain’s face before. It was worry, but not the kind of worry that was there when Inigo had panic attacks. It was something else, something more specific to his soulmate, no doubt. Maybe, Inigo wondered, he was having some anxiety of his own? They did say that hurt in one soulmate was often manifested in the other as anxiety. Then again… Niles was fine. There was nothing to hurt him. Niles left and Inigo was left standing alone with his brothers.

 

Inigo stayed in Cyrkensia all weekend to do the performances. When he came home it was late Monday afternoon, and he didn’t like what he saw. When he pushed open the door to their apartment Owain was sitting on the couch. He wasn’t doing anything special, the television wasn’t on, he was just staring at his phone. (His phone, it seemed, had been given its own special spot on the couch cushion beside him.)

He dropped his bag to the ground with a thump and pushed the door shut behind him. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Owain echoed the word back to him and Inigo took a slow breath in.

“Is everything alright with you and Niles?” He thought it wasn’t. He thought that Owain was doing the same thing Inigo had done time after time since he’d been dumped. He was waiting for someone to text him when they inevitably weren’t going to. He walked closer to the couch and slid down onto the seat near the arm.

“What? Yeah. I—I didn’t do anything.”

Or maybe he was wrong? But that was still an awkward way to word his answer. Inigo cleared his throat. “Alright… so who did do something?”

Owain looked at him like he’d committed a crime. Like he didn’t want to say anything—a deer literally staring into oncoming traffic and unsure what direction to run. He looked like he was trying to say anything but the truth, like he wanted to lie, but Owain had never been all that good at lying. It was obvious in those hazel eyes. He was trying to shield Inigo from something and it wasn’t going to fly.

Especially not if it had to do with Xander—and it had to. It had to be him because who else would Inigo need to be sheltered from? He felt like he had a wad of cotton balls in his throat. “What… happened?”

Owain chewed his lips for a few seconds before he finally worked up the voice to answer him. “That night… he cut ties with them. All of them. He put the house in Camilla’s name, packed some bags, and he just walked out.”

That didn’t make any sense. Who just moved out with only a couple of bags? If he was moving out he would have taken his belongings, his furniture. “W-well…” Part of him wanted to pretend like he didn’t care. Honestly he did, but he didn’t see the point in it. Why should he pretend like it didn’t matter to Owain? Owain saw him every day, he saw him through the torture that January had been… and so he knew that it mattered. He knew Inigo cared. “Did Niles mention why?”

“I don’t think he gave them a reason yet.” Owain answered. Inigo supposed that must have been what he was waiting for. A reason why this was happening.

Xander loved his family above all else. It just didn’t make any sense to Inigo, none at all, that he would walk out on them. He absolutely made time for them even when he didn’t have the means to. He was proud of them, every one, and spoke highly of them constantly. Why would he leave them?

It didn’t matter. It wasn’t worth dwelling on. Inigo wasn’t dating Xander, they weren’t in a relationship. He had cut ties with Inigo already and there was no sense in wasting his time focusing on a man who didn’t want him—who never loved him. Inigo didn’t have time to worry about Xander’s personal issues. He had to focus on his own life, on his dancing and his family. It was for that reason that he gently reached out to push Owain’s shoulder.

“I’m not having very much fun watching you frown. Let’s have some tea and people watch. We’ll make up backstories for every one of them.”

Owain looked concerned for a second longer, he really did… but he ended up turning his mouth up into a little smile and nodding his head. Owain put his worries out of his mind… and Inigo took that as initiative to put Xander out of his.

January was over, and February was going to be better. Or… at least it would, once that impending pink holiday had passed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actually though thank you guys for staying with me through the angsty detour we are taking in this fanfiction. Also moving was the worst everything is sore nothing is unpacked and I literally cannot find my can opener to save my life but we made it.


	8. Valentine's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Day Inigo Understood.

_Valentine’s Day_

 

It was snowing again. A gentle snow, a light snow. A _romantic_ snow. It was also a Monday, so Inigo had two days off before he had to be back in Cyrkensia for rehearsals and the next shows. He was sort of disappointed that this day hadn’t fallen on a weekend. If it was a Saturday, he would be so distracted by his dancing that he wouldn’t be able to dwell on the holiday. If it was a Saturday, he wouldn’t be thinking about the hole in his heart where _Xander_ was supposed to fit.

Inigo wasn’t doing anything special for Valentine’s Day. Well—that wasn’t necessarily true. He was doing something very special: He was going to lay on the couch and watch anything but romance movies. He had already dressed for the occasion: He had on one of Owain’s shirts because they were always baggy on him. Specifically, because Owain always wore oversized anime t-shirts, the man never grew up. He was also choosing to start the evening lounging in sweat pants but… once he broke out the food he may choose to strip down to just his underwear. He hadn’t decided yet.

There was a knock at the door and Inigo knew who it was. He called down the hall of their tiny apartment to his roommate. “Hey! Your date is here.”

Owain was getting ready to go. He was still in the shower. He’d been in there a hot minute longer than usual. Inigo suspected he was making sure he was a little extra clean. He didn’t expect Owain to come back home that night. The sound of the water shutting off met his ears, and Owain called back “Almost ready!”

Inigo supposed it wasn’t very polite to just make Niles wait in the hallway. He sighed and pushed himself up to his feet (as if he was an old man and not just feeling irrationally mopey), only to then wrap a big blanket around his shoulders like some kind of cape. He unlocked the door and pulled it open. Niles looked like an adult. He was dressed in real clothes that a human being who was going out in public might wear. Not really over-sized anime-slob aesthetic. He looked Inigo up and down once and honestly Inigo sighed. “Don’t judge me.” It was more of a defensive wall than a request but one way or another he knew it would be ignored.

“Nice quilt.” Niles blurted. Clearly he was unable to think up an alternate compliment… because there was nothing about Inigo _to_ compliment that day. He hadn’t even showered—his hair wasn’t styled pretty. He was making a statement! The statement was: _I am suffering through another lonely Valentine’s Day, so bite me._

“Why thank you. My mother made it.” Inigo rolled his eyes and a smile came to his lips in spite of everything. Nice quilt. Who did that? Who looked at someone and thought there was nothing to compliment and instead of just being quite redirected to a blanket? It made him chuckle. He stepped aside so Niles could walk into the apartment. “He’s still showering.”

“Maybe I’ll go watch.” Niles said, but Inigo didn’t think he really would. Inigo's attention was drawn to the box wrapped in pink paper and ribbons in Niles' hand. Specifically because he was passing it to Inigo, and not waiting for Owain to take it. “This is for you.”

“What is it?” Inigo asked. He took the box and shook it, and it made a sort of familiar shuffling sound. He opened the box and right away recognized why it was familiar. It was a tin of heart shaped cookies and fudge brownies, all decorated in pretty pink icing swirls. There was also a red envelope that obviously had a card inside of it.

“It’s from Elise.” Niles answered. Inigo looked at him with more discomfort on his face than he meant to, and Niles must have read into it because he crossed his arms and shrugged. “I thought about just throwing it out, but it’s not really my place. It’s probably some kind of sin to interfere with her cookies anyway.”

Inigo supposed part of him should have felt awkward to be receiving a valentine from Elise. She was Xander’s sister, after all. But he didn’t. He was really touched by it. She had gone out of his way to prepare those cookies and brownies, and he knew from experience that every detail counted when she made cookies. Sure, it was a reminder of his ex but… it was also a reminder that someone cared about him, and so Inigo smiled and set the tin down on the sofa. “Tell her thank you, for me?”

Niles nodded his head and hummed an agreement just as Owain showed up. His hair was still a little damp, and Inigo thought he was going to catch his death or something. It was a horrible idea to go out in the _romantic_ snow with wet hair. He almost said it, but then he didn’t. Mostly because he watched Niles raise up his hand and glide his fingers through Owain’s hair himself. Then he brought his hands back so he could unwrap the scarf around his neck and wrap it around Owain’s instead. “You’ll freeze to death, dork.” He murmured in a voice that was _far too_ loving for Niles.

Owain grinned at him. Inigo thought he was watching a gross romantic movie. He actually blushed—he thought it was so awkward for him to be standing there while they were swapping all those gross feelings back and forth. But then Owain glanced at Inigo and said “Hey! See you later, alright? Text me if you need anything.”

 

…

 

It was an hour and a half into Owain being out on a date, and Inigo thought he was doing alright. It was six thirty in the evening on Valentine’s Day and he hadn’t accidentally made himself sad yet. At least, not more sad than usual. The closest thing he’d gotten to emotional was over a commercial—and it wasn’t even a romantic commercial. The sweets from Elise had been an added perk to the evening and he was [almost] enjoying himself. He had lost the sweatpants (expected) because he had accidentally sat down on a brownie (unexpected).

They were good brownies, though, and so he would forgive the probably-permanent stain in the sofa. He supposed he could have easily asked google how to get delicious chocolate out of a couch. Maybe later, he supposed, because he didn't care then. 

He thought he would be jealous of Owain for going out on his date but he really wasn’t. He was happy that Owain was happy, and he wasn’t jealous at all. Probably because he couldn’t imagine dating Niles. How romantic could that be? He probably just made sex jokes the whole time. He wasn’t jealous that Owain was on a date. He was, however, upset that his marathon of funny home videos was interrupted by the jingle of a local news station.

The screen turned blue and the worlds “BREAKING NEWS” flashed across the screen in ugly word art. He thought maybe that they could afford a more legitimate logo, considering they were practically the only news station that covered Nohr and its surrounding suburbs. He shifted to look for the remote, because he didn’t care about the news. If this channel was going to force him to watch something boring (no doubt a proposal between celebrities on Valentine’s Day) he was going to turn on a dvd or Netflix or something.

He hesitated when he heard what the man on the screen had to say.

_“Hello and good evening every one, and this just in: A Valentine’s Fraud. It seems that Krakenburg Enterprises, well known as the largest company in Nohr, has been overstating their earnings and creating the largest corporate scandal in over a decade. What does that mean? Join us after this break to find out.”_

Inigo shifted again but this time not to find the remote. He shifted to get comfortable, and so he could pay attention to the words on the screen. There was… a scandal? He closed the tin of brownies (he’d eaten way too many anyway) and pushed it aside. Instead he wrapped himself up snug in his quilt and focused on the man, and now a woman as well, talking on the screen.

“ _So tell us, Geoff, what does it mean that Krakenburg Enterprises has been overstating their earnings. Have they been making up higher incomes?”_ The woman said. It seemed stupid to ask him a question like that, instead of just let him talk. This wasn’t an interview; it was live TV.

 _“Not exactly. Based on what we know about the case now, it appears that some—or possibly all—of the higher up executives have been involved in embezzling funds. The accounting records were then modified to reflect the income that the company_ should _have been seeing, and not the actual funds.”_

_“So what does that mean, exactly, for the company?”_

_“Nothing good, to put it simply. The value of stock in the company has already dropped over 80% since just this very morning, and many lower level employees will lose their 401k savings when it runs bankrupt.”_

_“So what about the higher level executives you mentioned? Who do we hold responsible for this mess?”_

_“That’s just the problem. Earlier today when the scandal was uncovered by a government investigation in the company, the founder and CEO of Krakenburg Enterprises, Garon Vigarde, was found to have taken his own life. There is no doubt in my mind that he did this to avoid jail time. Other charges currently fall on the shoulders of the man who co-opted the embezzlement, the head of financial management in the company Iago Othello. He is already in police custody.”_

_“Surely an entire company cannot go to waste at the hands of two men. Are there any other suspects in this case? Who will be held responsible in Garon’s place?”_

_“That’s where things get tricky. Currently authorities are still looking into the facts of the case, and there is certain to be a long trial ahead of many Krakenburg executives. In the absence of the CEO it is not uncommon for the next in command to step up and take responsibility. In this case the next man on the totem pole is Xander Vigarde, Garon’s son and the chief of operations at Krakenburg.”_

_“And he is also involved in the scandal, you think?”_

_“Well it’s hard to say what’s true and what’s not, this early in the investigation. What we do know is that Xander Vigarde is actually the man who reached out and made government officials aware of the incorrect accounting numbers in the first place, and so it_ appears _as though he is not directly involved. However as the son of the man reaping the rewards of this scandal it is hard to discern if he made the decision to contact authorities out of integrity or in an effort to make himself ‘appear innocent’. This is only just my opinion as someone considered to be a professional in this field, but it seems a little too fishy to me.”_

_“So then we should be wary of any lies Xander Vigarde may be telling us as well?”_

_“Until a judge and jury have had a chance to look over all the evidence in court I think it is in everyone’s best interest to be wary over_ everything _right now. A lot of men and women lost their jobs and their life savings today.”_

_“One more question regarding the C.O.O. if you don’t mind. Imagine for a moment that he is not involved. Would that exempt him from jail time?”_

_“Unfortunately no. Even if he wasn’t directly involved with the embezzling himself, if he was aware of it happening or swept it under the rug he could very well still be charged with fraud. It’s a difficult sort of case because the jury really is just guessing if a man is lying or telling the truth, and it wouldn’t be the first time in history that an innocent man went to jail over a company scandal and it certainly won’t be the first time a guilty man walked free.”_

The news switched gears after that, a man came forward to talk about the weather and a chance of more snow in the coming week. Inigo really didn’t care about what he had to say, or about the stupid snow at all. He was just… concerned. He supposed it made sense when he thought about it. He’d always hated that company because they were so horrible for the environment, and being part of a scandal practically screamed obvious. Still, he didn’t like the situation it put _Xander_ in. There was just no way he was involved in it. Right?

Inigo had lost most of his will to watch funny videos at that point. Instead he stood up and walked into the bathroom, having decided to take a shower. He felt kind of gross and he sort of hoped that the steam would clear his head, would help him make sense of the words that man on the news had to say. He turned the faucet and it creaked before it sputtered to life, and the shower grew steamy momentarily. Inigo stepped out of his clothes and into the hot water, and he thought he didn’t like that man. Who cared if he thought it was ‘fishy’? He probably shouldn’t have been broadcasting his biased opinion on program full of viewers who would believe it.

Inigo thought there was just no chance Xander was involved in the scandal personally. He couldn’t have been, because he was a good man—even if he’d made Inigo miserable and theoretically ruined his life by inflicting an emotional wound that still hadn’t healed. He was the one who reported it in the first place, wasn’t that what they said? It didn’t seem fair at all that he could go to jail for that. It didn’t seem fair that even if he was innocent, just because he was associated with Garon, just because he was _family_ , he could…

Inigo’s heart skipped three beats. _Oh my god_.

The shower had only just started to smell like the rose scented shampoo Inigo liked to use when that thought sank in. It sank in hard—sank in like a hot knife through butter. He stumbled, but caught himself on the wall of the shower before he slipped and fell.

Xander was being held accountable because he was associated with Garon, because he was his _family_ , and Inigo knew that meant he _had to have known_ about the scandal. In the very least he had to have suspected it, because _why else_ would he have cut ties with his own family? Why would he have made sure that the house was in Camilla’s name, that they all were comfortable and safe and secure without him? It was because _he knew_.

Xander knew that he was going to be blamed for this, somehow, and so he made sure his family couldn’t be held responsible for it as well. He took all of those steps and isolated himself because he was _protecting them_.

His thoughts raced back to a snowball fight, to Xander’s arm around his waist and the way that in spite of the fact that he had been the one to tackle Inigo, he’d made certain that Inigo landed safely on top of him. Because he didn’t want Inigo to get hurt, even at his own expense. Inigo slid down the wall of the shower until his ass hit the bottom of the tub and he pushed his fingers through his soapy hair.

Xander knew he was going to be blamed and so he cut ties with the people he cared about, the people he _loved_ , so that they couldn’t be blamed as well. Inigo’s heart was beating so hard in his chest it actually physically hurt. What if…

What if _that_ was why he dumped him? What if Xander broke up with Inigo not because he didn’t love him, but because he loved him enough to _protect him_? Inigo supposed that was a stretch. He broke up with Inigo on the new year, but didn’t cut ties with his family until February. There was a good chance their break up had nothing to _do_ with this, but…

There was also a chance that Xander still loved him, wasn’t there? (A chance that Xander had loved him at all.) And even if there wasn’t—honestly even if there was no chance at all, Inigo had to know why he did this alone. He had to know why he didn’t ask for help. Inigo could have carried him through it, or Leo maybe could have helped him sort it out, he was smart. Now Xander could be going to jail for the rest of his life, or something absurd.

Inigo needed to _find him_.

When he got out of the shower he got dressed faster than he thought he ever had before. He grabbed his phone to shove it into the faded back pocket of his jeans, but hesitated when he noticed it had almost twenty new messages. Niles was blowing it _up_. Inigo thought he must have had the same epiphany that he had… but he didn’t have time to talk to Niles. He had to go find Xander, and there was only one place he could think of that Xander might be.

 

…

 

Admittedly Inigo had never been in Xander’s office building before that day. Mostly because he avoided it like it was death since their break up. He didn’t like that he lived so close to it, that it was so close to the park he frequented. He didn’t like having to see it every day, another reminder just like his phone screen that Xander was alive and well and didn’t love him.

(Or was he alive and well? Inigo didn’t think Xander was the type to choose death over punishment, he wasn’t afraid of that so much… but he wondered how horrible the past two months had been for Xander. Had he suffered just as much as Inigo over their break up? What if he really did still love him? Maybe that was why he was at the theatre—maybe he had been planning to say something and backed out?)

He had been avoiding the building long before they broke up. He didn’t like it because it always took up so much of Xander’s time, and maybe that was why he bitterly refused to associate himself with it. He took the few steps towards the building and he supposed he was surprised. He had expected the office building to be flooded with reporters or police but it was void and empty.

The front desk had no one sitting at it and he wasn’t sure where Xander’s office would be, but he did manage to make his way past the silent room and into the elevator. It closed its doors around him and the light flickered and for half a second Inigo wondered if this was a horror movie and a sign that he was about to die. Maybe this was some kind of zombie apocalypse or… well that was silly. He looked up above the buttons and a small sign labeled the floors by department. The top floor was labeled ‘Executives’. (And why wouldn’t it be the top floor? That made sense.)

The only annoyance was that the elevator didn’t reach that floor. This one only went up to the thirteenth floor. He imagined he would have to switch once he got there. He didn’t know why buildings were designed that way, if it was a trend or a legitimate logical detail, but he hated buildings that made you switch elevators half way. He pushed the button (it was dulled where a hundred people had chosen that floor before) and it lit up a gross orange color instead of a bright yellow. He took a step back and put his hands on the rail when the elevator grunted to life.

He didn’t die, but he thought he almost did. The elevator stopped and the door started to open while it was still just barely between floors. By the time the doors opened all the way it had bounced itself into place where it needed to be. Inigo made a mental note to take the stairs when he left, because he thought he could already see his life flashing before his eyes if that elevator crashed. (Didn’t elevators have emergency brakes? He was sure it was functioning safely enough to have passed inspection at some point. He still didn’t like it.)

He wondered what asshole made the building so that in order to go up any further a person was required to walk through the thirteenth floor. Wasn’t that some sort of ghostly karma? He could remember reading once that some buildings omitted the thirteenth floor entirely, never built an entrance to it. He stepped out of the elevator and right away he saw the other elevator was on the opposite side of the building, a straight shot across the room.

He couldn’t have said why he knew Xander would be here, but there was some sort of instinct settled in his gut. He was very sure he could find his soulmate and if it meant walking through hell he would because… well why should he? Xander had dumped him and even in light of recent events there was no _real_ evidence their breakup had been a cover. He could very well have meant every word of not wanting to see him again.  

They weren’t dating. They weren’t even friends. They weren’t on speaking terms. What could Inigo do, really, when he found Xander? What would he say? Inigo swayed on his feet. He wasn’t sure he wanted to ask himself those questions yet. He didn’t want to lose his resolve.

Nothing felt right on this floor. The desks were abandoned like they had been evacuated mid shift. He walked past some cubicles and noticed that the computers were still on, with halfway typed documents and half empty cups of cooled coffee sitting beside them. There was a dull buzzing sound and Inigo jumped out of his skin, but then he realized it was just the vibration of a phone someone had left on a desk.

He moved on quickly to get closer to the elevator. As soon as he got there he pressed the call button and waited for it to come down to him (and did that mean someone was upstairs?) with a lack of patience. The copy machine was beside the elevator. There was a stack of papers on it that no one had ever claimed. The fan that kept the machine cool hummed softly. Inigo pushed himself into the elevator fast.

This elevator was in better shape than the other one and likely because it saw less use. Inigo pressed the button for the highest floor and wrapped his arms around himself. That had been… freaky, to say the least. He hadn’t really ever seen this place bustling with people but he knew that it shouldn’t have been abandoned. It felt like a stupid horror movie again and he really just hated it. (If it was a horror movie, hear him out, he would probably be the first to die because he was the idiot choosing to explore anyway in spite of the danger.)

The top floor wasn’t as scary to look at. There was a short hall with only four offices, and all the doors were closed except for the one on the end. He walked past them and saw the name plaques. Garons was first. Inigo turned his eyes away from it. The second office was the one that belonged to the head of the financial stuff—that Iago guy. Inigo didn’t look at the third office. He walked to the open door and peered inside.

The office was large but very empty. All of the papers and knickknacks and electronics that Inigo would have expected to see were long gone, and he wondered if their computers had been taken as evidence by the police? The outside wall of the office was just windows, floor to ceiling. Big windows that looked out on the street below, out on the park. The room was very empty save the stripped shelves, an empty desk, and the man Inigo had been looking for.

Xander was sitting on the floor by the windows. He was sitting on his knees and he had his hands folded in his lap and for a short second Inigo wondered if he was praying. He pushed the door open just a hair and stepped through it, not particularly trying to sneak in but also not sure what he should say to his ex.

Xander looked like he had tuned out the entire world, like it was just him and his thoughts. Inigo took gentle steps closer and he thought he had never ever seen him look small before. Xander had always been a comforting wall of warmth and strength, but in that moment with almost sickly pale skin and dark circles under his eyes, Inigo was sure he had never been weaker, never been smaller.

Xander must have heard his steps. He must have heard him because he turned to face the noise with a small start, with his tired eyes widened but… the fear that reflected in them softened into something else when he laid eyes on Inigo. _Shame_ , Inigo thought. Xander looked ashamed of himself. Xander’s eyes darted away from Inigo’s then, they only met for one electric second, before he whispered in a voice that was just unfairly raspy, “Please… don’t look at me.”

“Oh, thank God.” The words bubbled up out of Inigo’s throat right away. How could they not? Xander was alright. Well… alright was an exaggeration. He was clearly not alright. But he wasn’t _dead_. He wasn’t dying or hurt or killing himself or any of the wild theories that had fluttered around in his brain earlier. He was just broken. Very broken. Living a nightmare, too, Inigo thought.

For a moment Inigo stood there staring. Xander had asked him not to look and Inigo entirely ignored it in favor of paying as close of attention as possible. He wasn’t sure what to do. He hadn’t let himself plan it earlier. He was still _angry_. Inigo was kind of still enraged, actually. He was mad and upset and scared and he was revisited by all of the feelings that he had been trying to get over since he was stood up. He didn’t know if he could ever really forgive Xander for that… and it wasn’t fair to himself to forgive him easily either. He had ruined Inigo’s life. Every thought he ever had was plagued with undertones of remorse and memories of being loved. Inigo had to work hard to breathe in and out and carry himself every day.

…But what if… what if Xander had suffered too? If he did it just to protect him, if he _really_ loved him… he would have been suffering too. Maybe that meant Xander did still want him? It made Inigo furious that the very idea put a skip in his heartbeat. He wanted to be loved _so badly_. Even if he was mad, even if it was stupid… well he wanted Xander to love him, still, because there was no way to lie and pretend he didn’t still love Xander, too.

He certainly couldn’t say any of that, though. It wasn’t really the time, not exactly. Xander looked horrible and so Inigo tried to figure out what he _should_ do. Eventually he settled for walking in front of Xander’s kneeling form, between him and the windows, and very slowly and somewhat cautiously opening his arms.

It was absolutely horrifying to see tears on Xander’s face. Slow tears, silent tears, tears he was trying to hold in and stay strong through. They dragged down his cheek and hooked under his chin where they dropped to the ground. Why should that man ever have to cry? Inigo didn’t think he deserved it, even if he was the devil himself. It honestly was almost enough to bring Inigo to tears as well. He swallowed that back and pretended he was stronger, though. He tried to smile and hoped it looked more like a smile than a grimace.

Xander looked completely shocked. He hadn’t expected that, obviously. He looked from Inigo’s eyes, down to his open arms, and then back up again. He looked like he wasn’t sure… but then he reached out faster than a flash of lightning and pulled Inigo forward by his waist. Inigo stumbled, but he managed to keep his footing if only because Xander had such a secure grip on him. He wouldn't have let him fall. He was careful. He wrapped his arms around Inigo’s middle tight, so tight it was almost suffocating, and he hid his face in Inigo’s shirt, in the middle of his tummy, and he cried. He just _cried_.

Inigo’s skin felt like it was on fire with the sensation of being touched by his soulmate again. It was all brand new tingles that he wasn’t used to anymore. It was all sorts of familiarity and comfort. Comfort was what he wanted to be, anyway, it was why he was standing there letting a grown man cry into his stomach. Every time Inigo ever cried Xander held him and let him cry himself out, and he never made him feel ashamed of himself. In fact, he always promised him things would get better… and so Inigo did the same. “It’s going to be alright.” He whispered. He had no idea if that were true. He didn’t really know if it was possible for it to be alright at this point. Alright may have been off the table.

He combed his fingers through Xander’s sunshine hair and sort of said a prayer that, even if he was wrong and it wasn't ever alright again, the words brought comfort. He prayed that maybe the magic of soulmates would still work even when both of them felt entirely too awkward, because he wanted Xander to have the comfort he had always made Inigo feel. He laid his other hand on Xander’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Things will turn out just fine, you’ll see.”

Listening to Xander cry was the most heartbreaking thing Inigo had ever done. It was worse than listening to himself cry, because Xander didn't deserve it, and a growing discomfort and anxiety in the back of Inigos' mind ached at him to fix it, to make it better. Inigo was surprised by how quickly Xander composed himself. It only could have been a few minutes (even if it felt like it went on forever) before He leaned away from Inigo and cleared his throat to compose himself.

He stood up and Inigo was reminded that Xander was a beautiful giant with big strong shoulders who gave amazing hugs… and even though Xander took a step back Inigo wished deep down he could chase him and hug him again, hug him for real and feel those arms wrap tight around him like they used to. “I am…” Xander began, and he cleared his throat a second time. Inigo turned his attention away from looking him over and then up to his eyes. (Part of him noticed that earring was still in place in his ear and found the time to be… proud? Proud, perhaps.) “Sorry. For crying like that.”

“Don’t apologize for crying.” Inigo murmured. Xander never made him apologize, after all. Inigo opened his mouth to remind him of that very fact, but he was interrupted when Xander went on to say something else.

“I need to go to the police station, and turn myself in.” He said it like he was wanted, but the last Inigo had heard they weren’t sure if they were pressing charges on Xander yet. Still, they both knew it. The world probably knew it. They were going to press charges on Xander, until they had a trial and determined if he was guilty or not. “Thank you, Inigo, for coming here. It was… good to see you again.”

Was he going to leave? Inigo didn’t think he could bear the idea of this ending that quickly. “Hey! W-wait!”

Xander waited. He looked at Inigo with his mouth in a flat line and his skin already looked like it was calming back down. Even with tired eyes and paler skin than usual he hardly looked like he had been openly sobbing moments ago. Inigo didn’t mean to, but he felt his fists clench. “That’s… That’s it? You’re not going to explain all of this, I… what does this mean? What does _any_ of this mean?”

Xander shook his head slowly, and he lowered his eyes away from Inigo’s again. Inigo didn’t like it when he did that. It was starting to become clear he did that when he had something to say that he knew Inigo wouldn’t like. “If I involve you now then everything I have done is for nothing.”

“You can’t do that!” Inigo was surprised by the volume of his own voice. He was shouting louder than he meant to, and it bounced off the walls of the empty room and the glass windows in an eerie echo. Xander’s eyes moved back up to Inigo’s and they had some amount of concern in them. Inigo had never… really yelled at him. Not really. Inigo wasn’t one for yelling. He wasn’t one for fighting. He wasn't proud of himself for doing it now. “You don’t deserve this, Xander, no one does! I know you weren’t involved, I… I know you’re a good man. Xander, you didn’t…”

“Inigo.” When he said his name so sternly he felt like he was being lectured. Inigo closed his mouth. Xander said “We live in a world where we judge men by their vices and not by their virtues. Justice is only an illusion that we project because we prefer to see it rather than the truth. My innocence is irrelevant until a lawyer can definitively prove it in court and until then the media will slander my name. They have already begun to.”

Well that was true. That man certainly hadn’t sounded like he thought Xander was innocent before, after all. It wasn’t fair, though. It wasn’t fair that justice was hard to come by and the worst part of it was that Inigo knew that to be true.

“It is for that reason that I have invested so much effort in detaching myself from my siblings and… also from you. I could not bear to see a name so lovely as yours to be dragged through the mud, Inigo.”

Was that supposed to make him feel better? Inigo bit his lip only for a second before he argued again. Before he had to argue. “What name? My name doesn’t matter, what difference does it make? Do you think this is just some kind of game, Xander? You could be sentenced to jail!”

“If you become involved in this there is a chance you could suffer a similar fate.” Xander’s voice raised. Just a hair, and Inigo knew it was to meet his own. He didn’t want to back down, but if he did this alone… well how could he?

“Owain’s mother is a lawyer, I can get her advice. Trust me, I can _help you!_ ”

Xander hesitated. Just for a second, and Inigo wondered if he was going to agree. He didn’t. Instead he said something that only served to enrage Inigo. “I do trust you, Inigo. More than you know. That is why it has to be this way—and I will trust you not to put yourself at risk.”

He couldn’t even breathe. Inigo was so stunned and he was so angry and how could Xander say that? They were soulmates! They were soulmates and as such it was literally Inigo’s _job_ , the whole reason he existed, to take care of Xander--to love him and protect him. He wouldn’t even let him! He wouldn’t let him help, he wouldn’t let him even try, and it was stupid. It wasn’t _fair_.

Inigo’s chest heaved with all the frustration he couldn’t find words for but he noticed Xander’s stare on him linger a little longer than he expected. His eyes softened, the sharp tone he had used melted away into a look that Inigo thought might have almost been a smile. Almost. It was, perhaps, more of a less intense frown. “I will always cherish our time together.”

“Don’t say it like that.” Inigo thought his hands were bleeding where his nails were grinding into them. “Don’t say it at all. This isn’t goodbye…”

“I need to leave now. It will bode better for me if I surrender myself willingly instead of waiting for an officer to come retrieve me.” Xander turned around and walked to the door. Just like that, he was buttoning up his coat and walking away. Inigo’s breath got caught up in his throat like he was choking on it. He took a step closer to the door too, unfrozen momentarily, but Xander didn’t even look at him when he added “Inigo… Do not follow me.”

He didn’t.

Inigo stared at the door when Xander left and wondered if he could have done anything really to change the way that played out. Was there really a point to his coming to find Xander at all? He backed up to the windows and turned around so he could look outside. A few minutes after Xander left he saw him exit the building, turn up his collar against the wind, and tuck his hands into his pockets. He started walking in the direction of the police station.

Inigo was absolutely livid. The moment Xander was out of sight from the window he started pacing to blow off some of the steam, but it didn’t help. He reached up and chewed on his thumb nail. “Who does he think he is, my boss?” He asked the empty room. “He can’t order me around like that. And he can’t do this alone.”

He paced a few moments longer before he settled for biting his lip and making his way out of the building. He hadn’t even made it outside yet by the time he had Maribelle on the phone and was asking her to let him come spend a couple of nights. He was going to protect this idiot, whether or not he wanted his help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like sincerest apologies to the people who thought that this chapter would have fluff in it because it doesn't really. March will bring with it the beginning of rebuilding that relationship so like you're almost there the worst is over we have made it past the angst hump.


	9. 9. March

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The month Inigo made changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends there are some sexytimes in this chapter jsyk. Also very poorly edited I am the worst thanks.

 Inigo knew that Maribelle didn’t want to do this. He knew from the very moment he asked her, because she looked at him like _he_ was the one who had committed a crime instead of his beloved Xander. Not that Xander had, not really, but… well it didn’t matter to her. Not in this case.

 Maribelle was a very loving mother. She was strict in only few ways. Although they were a wealthy family, her children were not given money willy-nilly. When they wanted to borrow money for a large purchase she always made them write her a short explanation of why. An essay, really, convincing her that whatever the finances were for was very worth the cost. The only thing she ever paid for without that sort of essay was their educations or music and dance lessons, which she thought to be noble pursuits.

Although strict with money, Maribelle was nothing if not generous. They never wanted for much growing up, and even if an ‘essay’ was too lackluster to warrant spending the money at the time, the desired object often made its way under the tree at Christmas.

Her other rules were simple enough. Don’t be stupid, for the most part. Inigo had never had a problem with it, before this. This, of course… this was very different. No matter just how crazy he sounded to her, Inigo had to follow his heart on this.

Maribelle wanted no part in Xander’s court case.

He supposed when she explained herself, it wasn’t hard to see why she felt that way. Xander had never been introduced to her while they were in a relationship. Inigo hadn’t gotten around to inviting him back to Ylisse for a weekend, to meet his family. He’d talked endlessly about Xander of course. He’d been happy to brag that he had met his soulmate, when they were together. But then…

…Then they broke up, and Inigo had been devastated. So devastated, in fact, that he spent all of the time he had with his aunts talking about how upset and broken he was. They were excellent listeners! Lissa got right behind him, and so did Maribelle. He could distinctly recall her telling him that no man who would abandon him was worth losing sleep over.

Maribelle didn’t want to help Xander because she only knew him as the man who broke Inigo’s heart. To her, he was just a jerk who put his work before his family and boyfriend, and an idiot who got himself involved in a company scandal. She wasn’t necessarily wrong either, all of the totally biased evidence pointed towards that conclusion, but Inigo knew it wasn’t the truth.

Xander was a genuine man. Inigo was sure of it! All of the kisses they had shared, all of the touches, they had to be real. He had gone so far out of his way to keep his family safe, and to keep Inigo safe… it wasn’t fair for him to be in jail.

But he was. He turned himself in on Valentine’s Day and already a week had passed. Inigo had to go back to work for a few days, of course, but… Today was the day that Maribelle had agreed to drive to Nohr’s local prison and speak to Xander.

Maribelle didn’t want to help Xander because she thought he was wrong for her darling Inigo, but she was helping him anyway because she loved her son. He held the door for her when they arrived at the building in downtown Nohr. It was cloudy outside and no brighter inside. The lights were dim and felt very artificial and sterile. There were lockers lining the walls and Inigo had no idea what they were for.

He had never visited someone in jail before. Honestly he’d never even considered it. Maribelle walked right to a locker though, and she deposited her purse into it. She then turned to Inigo and held out her palm. “Give me your earrings, dear. You can’t wear them past this room.”

Inigo didn’t hesitate in the moment. He reached up and started to push the pointed end of the gauge backwards and out of his ear. “Why… not?” He asked, but only after he dropped them into her hand. She turned and placed them into the locker and then tugged a small pink lock from her coat pocket to lock their belongings away safely.

“All sorts of reasons. You could use them to poke someone’s eye out I suppose.” She shrugged her shoulders and tucked her hands into the pockets of her coat. It was very well suited to her, with shoulder pads and a military style, but it splayed out at the bottom over her ruffled skirt. “Stay close darling. The staff here are dreadfully rude.”

Were they? Inigo wouldn’t have thought that his aunt was that well versed in the Nohr Penitentiary. One of the reasons Maribelle had been hesitant to take this case (aside from her adamant distaste for the man who broke her baby’s heart) was that she was not a criminal justice lawyer. He had heard her say it at least ten times in the past week. He supposed he _knew that_. She primarily dealt in work-related injury lawsuits. She primarily defended people who deserved to be taken care of. She did not necessarily have reason to believe that Xander Vigarde was one of those people.

Maribelle led Inigo down the halls like she knew exactly where she was going. (and maybe she did?) She walked with her chin held high, her nose turned up, and her eyes ahead of her. Her high heels clicked on the floor and her curls bounced (and Inigo thought Forrest would have killed to style her hair for her one day) and she walked with purpose. She left an echo of pride in her wake.

Inigo walked with nervousness. He walked with his hands tucked into the back of his jeans and concern evident on his face because he had no idea what to do with himself in a prison. He had no idea what to say to anyone. He encountered, be they guards or pedestrians. The people who came there were either criminals or they were visiting them. Or—he supposed—there were people like Xander. People who didn’t deserve to be there. His heart clenched somewhat at the thought. How many innocent men and women sat in jail?

Before this Inigo had always thought that people were “innocent until proven guilty.” He knew that was not true, now. Xander’s words echoed around his brain every day, reminding him that everyone was just assuming he had taken part in the scandal. Innocent until proven guilty was a lie. Xander was guilty until proven innocent.

Maribelle stopped walking and Inigo walked right into her back because he had been entirely lost in his thoughts. She jolted just a little and he gasped and stepped back. “Oh, I—I’m sorry!”

“Pay attention to where you’re walking.” She smiled at him when she said it, and he knew it was with love and reassurance, but he nodded his head and straightened up just a little. “Now, now, Inigo, you look ghastly, like you’ve seen a ghost. You’ll be alright here on your own, won’t you?”

“Yes, I… Wait, alone?” Inigo began to answer her question with an agreement. Of course he would be alright. He could handle himself alone. That was no big deal. (In spite of his nerves and his temptation to stay close to his aunt, he was still an adult!) He only had one little bitty concern. “I can’t go with you?”

“Oh, no, I’m so sorry dear. No one can join myself and Mr. Vigarde until he signs a consent form and…” She paused her words, her eyes scanned Inigo up and down, and she put her hand on her hip. Maribelle rolled her bright eyes and she did so with amusement as well as frustration. “Do not pout at me, young man. I will present him with the form up front and as soon as he signs it I will come back and fetch you.”

And then she left.

Inigo sighed when he was alone. The door that shut behind her was heavy and metal and had a guard standing on the other side of it. He didn’t want to try and peek. Based on the evidence, there was probably a long hallway on that side of the door too. He looked to the left and noticed a cork board with notices posted on it. That would pass the time, he assumed.

He assumed wrong. The minutes ticked by and he didn’t hear the tell-tale clicking of his aunt’s heels. The longer he stood there pacing, the more he wished he had brought Owain or Brady with him to calm his nerves. He didn’t know why… but anxiety was building inside of him. Why wasn’t Maribelle coming to get him? Was something wrong? Surely there was no way Xander had refused to see him, right?

Part of him rationalized that was insane. Xander loved him. Or, at least, he did once. There was no telling if he’d gotten over those feelings, or if they still existed. But… either way, Xander _liked_ him. He must have, to have gone so far out of his way to keep Inigo safe. He wouldn’t be so cruel as to refuse to talk to him, surely.

And yet… even having rationalized that thought it was strange that Maribelle hadn’t come back for him yet. She didn’t come back for him either, not until an entire hour had passed. A miserable hour in which Inigo questioned every aspect of his life, his relationship with Xander, and the life choices he had ahead of him. The upcoming month of March was… going to be difficult. He was about to give up, honestly. He was about to assume the worst. Then, finally, Maribelle let the guard open the door for her and walked through, briefcase and heels and curls intact.

“Did you forget something?” Inigo asked, and he wished he didn’t sound as desperate as he did. He wanted to sound like he hadn’t spent an hour drowning in self-doubt. That was not the case. Maribelle tilted her head to look up at him, her hair cascaded beautifully to the side, and she smiled to one side of her face.

“Certainly not. The very first thing I did was present Mr. Vigarde with the consent to witness paperwork.”

Inigo crossed his arms around himself, but he followed Maribelle as she walked. She _continued_ walking back the direction they came—like they were leaving the building. Why were they leaving? He hesitated when he glanced over his shoulder at the door that led to the visiting booths and then he had to take fast steps to catch up with his aunt. When he did he fell into step beside her. “…And?”

“And… He refused to consent to your joining us.” She answered the question dutifully. Her smile did not falter. “Obviously, darling, or I would have come back for you as I said.”

“What? Why?! Did he say why?” What had Inigo done? Surely Xander wasn’t mad at him for putting his nose in his business and helping, was he? There could be no way he was _really_ going to refuse to speak to him, right? He couldn’t have really predicted a more frustrating outcome. He thought that Xander would want to see him, would want the comfort that soulmates offered, that he might (maybe) thank him for getting a lawyer involved.

“Yes.” Maribelle answered his question. Inigo was so distracted by the swirling anxiety in his head he almost forgot what his question was in the first place. She stopped in front of the lockers. Inigo did too, he watched her open the lock and reclaim their belongings, and she put his ear gauges in his hand before she gave him the answer he was looking for. He must have looked as shitty as he felt, because Maribelle sighed and put her hand on his arm gently. “Inigo, darling, it is very jarring. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Er—no. I don’t understand at all.” Inigo muttered while he replaced his jewelry.

Maribelle rolled in her lips while she pulled her gloves back onto her hands. They were leaving. This was real. They were leaving and Inigo wasn’t going to see Xander again. Something about that made his heart ache more than expected. She said “People in jail have a very distinct look about them. They’ve not slept well, they’re not as clean as they want to be, no matter how often they try to wash themselves. You simply cannot wash away shame. The orange jumpsuits are far from flattering—the slippers they wear aren’t either. Mr. Vigarde chose not to sign the form because he wanted to spare your feelings.”

“My feelings? It sounds to me that he’s just embarrassed!”

“Inigo he chose not to let you in that room because he did not want you to see him as any less than the man you think he is. In spite of all the wrong he has done to you, it is very clear to me that you still love him. Perhaps he suspects that to be true as well, because he put your mental health above even his own.”

Inigo bit the inside of his cheek but didn’t say anything. He didn’t have an argument against that. In spite of trying his best to hate Xander, he couldn’t ever do it. That didn’t mean he wasn’t still angry. He was _very_ angry at Xander. He was mad that he faced it alone. He was mad that he broke up with him in the first place. He was mad that he refused to see him, now. Perhaps he still loved him, but that had nothing to do with how betrayed he felt when he was dumped, or how he felt now.

“He didn’t want you to have to carry this burden, and for that… I think I respect him.” Maribelle added while Inigo faltered in his thoughts.

Inigo’s frustration melted into confusion. “Excuse me? I misheard you. Did you say you respect him? On the way here you called him a scoundrel. A scoundrel! I’m not convinced anyone has used that word in the past decade, let alone in reference to a person and not a dog or something.”

“I’m well aware of what I said about him.” Maribelle said. She walked alongside Inigo and stopped at the curb, where she lifted her parasol into the air to hail a cab. “He deserved every word, breaking your heart like that. However… I do believe he has true character to him. He told me his side of the story and I have… had something of a change of heart about him.”

“His side of the story?”

“Yes.”

“All of it—from the beginning?” Every detail? Did he tell her about their relationship, about how he dumped Inigo? Did he mention if he went to that performance? (Inigo was still convinced he saw Xander that night.) Did he know how he ruined Inigo? Did Maribelle tell _him_?

“All of it, of course. It would do him no good to hide information from the woman representing him in court.”

Perhaps prior to that second Inigo was going to ask Maribelle to tell him what Xander said. He would have asked if he had mentioned the break up, or what went through his mind when that happened. Part of him still did want to know if they talked about that. This was the first time Xander met Maribelle and instead of smiling and having tea together they were talking through bulletproof glass into dirty mouthpieces. He had no doubt it was awkward for Xander. Certainly more awkward than the day Inigo met _Xander’s_ family.

He didn’t ask about that, of course. The question that slipped up his throat was of far greater importance. “You’re going to represent him?”

“Yes, I am.” She smiled at Inigo and when the cab parked in front of them Inigo pulled open the door for her. “You know I can never tell you no, dear.”

…

Inigo blew away some of the steam that was wafting up from his coffee cup. This was not his favorite place to have coffee, and they did not serve tea. It was, however, the place closest to Niles’ office, and it was where he agreed to meet Inigo during his lunch break. Beggars, as it just so happened, could not be choosers. Inigo sort of thought he would be spending a good portion of his near future living by that motto.

Inigo could recall the first time he met Niles. His first impression of him had been that he was going to hate him, and they would never get along. He could remember Xander jokingly calling him a leech. At the time he thought maybe that meant financially. He learned with time that it was an almost affectionate insult (In the same sense that Niles affectionately referred to his own soulmate as a ‘dork’ or ‘idiot’). Niles had been raised like a brother to Xander (though more specifically to Leo) and he was only a leech in the sense that he used to add silly snacks to the grocery lists.

Inigo’s first impression of Niles could not have been more off base. He thought he would hate him, but Niles was one of his close friends, now. He was closer to him than any of Xander’s other siblings although needless to say he loved them all. He saw Niles more often anyway, because he spent a portion of his free time with Owain… and he could remember a number of occasions when Niles demonstrated that he was a loyal friend, and not just a walking innuendo.

(Inigo didn’t think he would ever forgive Niles for nearly getting shot in a gas station, though. All it truly did was add him to the list of people Inigo would not trust to stay safe in a crisis.)

Niles usually wore pretty neutral colors and generally when Inigo saw him he wore sweaters. When he was at work he wore dress shirts, and no matter how often Inigo saw him in a tie it always seemed wrong. He still had a great deal of respect for what Niles did for a living, however. He was something of a hero. Still… sitting across from him in the booth at the coffee shop had him a little anxious. He had a lot to ask of Niles that day, and he had no idea if he would even begin to accept the requests, let alone take them seriously. Inigo had been working very closely with his aunt during this case and… well this was an exceptionally lofty request.

“Mm,” Inigo snapped his attention up to Niles when he heard him hum like that. It was a judgmental hum, but also… fairly docile. The sort of judgmental he was when he was amused with something. When their eyes met (and Inigo was often taken with how shockingly blue Niles’ eyes were), Niles said to him, “You seem nervous. Was this meant to be a date?”

Inigo flushed and shook his head. Niles was making fun of him for his silence, and that was to be expected. He tried to pretend it didn't fluster him, but there was something truly amazing about the way Niles could seamlessly make any conversation flirtatious without even trying. “I—No! Obviously not!” He cleared his throat. Joking aside, Inigo was very serious about having brought him there to talk. He needed to waste no more time.

It was with a deep breath and a less-than-innocent wink that he said “I thought we could talk a little bit about your living arrangement, actually.”

Niles raised a brow high at Inigo, and he shifted to rest his chin against his fist. His voice dripped with suspicion. “Interesting subject. What about my living arrangement, specifically?”

Inigo rolled in his lips, but quickly tried to mask his nerves behind a smile. It was obvious he was nervous, though. It was obvious in how he avoided eye contact, and in how he twisted his mother’s ring around on his finger. “Er,” He began, and then he cleared his throat. “May I… specifically… have it?”

Niles opened his mouth, but then he closed it again. Whatever joke he was about to make clearly didn’t top the shock of being asked that question. “You want my apartment? Fascinating concept, but I’m not interested in living on the streets. Been there, done that, you know?”

“Obviously I don’t want you to be homeless.” He muttered in frustrated response. Inigo had a plan, of course! It seemed silly to try and ask someone to give you their house, without one. He rolled his hands while he spoke, like that would make Niles just ‘get’ what he was trying to suggest, like he would jump on board the crazy train quicker that way. “I was thinking we could… you know… trade. I move into your apartment and you…”

“And I move in with Owain? Mm, tempting. Now, tell me,” Niles flashed Inigo a wicked grin. “What put this horrible idea in your head?”

“It is not horrible! You and Owain are getting along so well—you are soulmates after all—it’s a very natural time in your relationship to move in together!” Well not really. The look Niles gave Inigo kind of read that, too. They had only been in a relationship for something like two months. Inigo thought it had been amusing to watch Owain develop those feelings. It was fun to see someone who used to claim he didn’t buy into soulmates suddenly be infatuated with his own. That said, he’d never lost his level head on the subject. He didn’t fall fast and hard the way Inigo had fallen for Xander. Outside of their initial… encounter… Owain and Niles appeared to be taking their relationship at a healthy and gradual pace. ...Which was probably why Niles looked at Inigo like he was on fire when he suggested they move in together. Inigo sighed and shook his head slowly. “Alright, let me be more straightforward.”

Inigo had a plan because he was desperate to fix the situation his soulmate was in. He had planned this out in his head and mapped it out with Maribelle. (She did not approve, but she also couldn’t disagree that it was a suitable arrangement.)

“In order for Xander to be released on bail, he will be obligated to stay under house arrest. He won’t be able to work because—well obviously no one will be willing to hire him right now. Until his court case is settled he probably won’t be able to even daydream of getting a job.”

Niles’ amused frown shifted into a more serious frown. “You want my apartment so you can share it with Xander? I don’t live in a nice part of town, you know. You won’t like it. He'll like it even less, he already hates it.”

“I don’t particularly care where it is.” Inigo admitted, quietly. He chewed on his lip and stared into his drink that he still hadn’t touched. It would probably go cold, if he was honest. He didn’t care about that, either. “I can’t just let him rot in jail. You and I both know he didn’t… he’s _innocent_. At least under house arrest he won’t be quite so miserable.”

“Aren’t you just a ball of optimism?” Niles asked. “Even under house arrest he’s still in isolation. They’ll put a tracker on his ankle, you know. I’ve issued them for kids before. He won’t be going anywhere or doing any work. He’ll go stir crazy.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” Inigo murmured. “He obviously can’t go back home to his siblings, and he didn’t have his own apartment before.” After he left his home he literally had been living at his office. It was pathetic, for lack of an even remotely better word.

Niles looked at Inigo, and then looked at his phone. Presumably to check the time, because he stood up like he was leaving. _Leaving_ , and Inigo felt a wave of discomfort wash over him in the form of _what if_. What if Niles said no? He  _needed_ him to say yes.  All of Xander’s siblings felt betrayed by him. He had abandoned them in his effort to protect them, and while noble it was also stupid. Niles seemed the least angry with him, if Inigo was perfectly honest. He understood more than the rest exactly what had happened. Surely he wasn’t so angry that he would choose to just let him stay in jail, would he?

Inigo stood up too, and he zipped up the jacket he was wearing. The jacket Xander gave him. Inigo had taken up wearing it again, recently. He supposed it had been childish to avoid wearing it when they broke up, anyway. It was practically tailored just for him, it made him look good in all the best ways. He left the cup of coffee on the table. He had no intention to finish it. Inigo noticed Niles looking past him and then he _smirked_ at Inigo. “This girl has been staring at you since you got here.” He said quietly, and then he turned away to look at his phone like he had no interest in Inigo at all. For a good three seconds Inigo was confused, but then…

“Excuse me,”

Inigo turned around and was faced with a vision of beauty. Her hair was tossed over one shoulder and she had a pair of glasses with cat-eye lenses and she was nothing if not gorgeous. “Oh—er—Hello.” He tried, because he had no idea what she was doing talking to him.

She giggled. It sounded genuine, but it _had_ to be fake, right? Outside of Elise, did anyone really giggle? But she pushed some of her hair back behind her ear and she flashed him a smile and he thought she had to have been a hair younger than her. She looked like a college student. “Ah… may I help you?”

“Yes. Well—I mean maybe.” She folded her hands in front of herself and twiddled her thumbs. “I’ve just…Oh, well, here goes: I think you’re very handsome, and I was wondering if I could buy you a cup of coffee and we could talk..?” Inigo honestly didn’t know what to do or say. His brain shut down, in that moment. It was like when a computer overheated, and just made that horrible blip noise and then stopped altogether. The fans quit running, the screen went blank… that was Inigo. A blank screen.

He could not remember a time in his entire god damn life when a girl had asked him out, and certainly not a _cute girl_. She bit her lip while she waited patiently for his answer and he just… What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t say yes, obviously. He wasn’t over his break up, he was still probably in love, not to mention he didn’t even have enough spare time to feed a goldfish, let alone try and court a lovely lady. Somehow all of his years of being rejected did not prepare him for this. One might have thought he would have remembered what they used to say, or taken it to heart. What was it that ladies had always told him? They lectured him about waiting for his soulmate, for his destiny. He couldn’t lecture her though, there was no way… he had no way of knowing if she even had a soulmate!

He heard a telltale snicker from behind him and realized that Niles was waiting to hear the verdict, too. This was really cutting into Inigo’s time to convince him to move, so… he needed to handle this quickly. And delicately. He took a breath. “My, my, that is incredible sweet of you to offer, but…”

“Oh.”

 _Oh._ On her face Inigo saw disappointment and shame that he was more than a little familiar with. He felt _bad_! Part of him actually entertained the idea of changing his mind just to let her down easier, but… Niles played the role of hero, yet again. This time in a less obvious way. He turned around and slid his fingers through Inigo’s. They didn’t fit right, not the way that Xander's hand fit into his. Inigo glanced down at their hands, woven together tight, and a pink blush blossomed across his nose.

They were holding hands.

_Okay…_

“Oh! I had no idea you two were together!” The girl’s face lit up red, but she looked… relieved? Inigo didn’t understand why until it dawned on him that Niles was letting her down easy _for him_. She thought he was already in a relationship, and not that she was being rejected for lack of her own qualities. It was smart. It was _nice_ , and almost unexpected from the man who put Inigo in that situation to start with. “I’m so sorry! Excuse me!”

And just like that she left. Inigo followed Niles out the door and when they had made it a few feet from the front of the store he squirmed his hand free from Niles’ and tucked it into his coat pocket. “Er—thank you.”

“Well I think Xander may have been disappointed if he moved in with his soulmate only to find him dating someone else. Besides—that was a disaster. Have you never spoken to a woman before?” Niles shrugged. Inigo nodded his head with an embarrassed chuckle, until the words really resonated with him.

“You’ll trade leases with me?”

“Maybe.” Niles answered. He smirked into his coffee when he took a sip. “I’m not against moving in with a dork, but that doesn’t mean he’s interested in that yet. Get your brother’s permission first.”

Inigo supposed that was the best answer he could have hoped for. He just hoped that Owain would understand why he wanted to move out so badly.

…

Inigo wanted to talk to Owain about his living situation but… first he had someone else he had to talk to. After Niles went back to work Inigo took a bus to Cyrkensia. It was his day off, but… he had some business there, too. The sooner he took care of it, the better. He meant to go straight to the office that Azura normally did her paperwork in. Instead he noticed that the stage was empty, that day, and the entire auditorium as well.

Cyrkensia’s opera house was beautiful. Seats rose up high with sectioned off balconies, but the most notable feature was that the stage was surrounded by water. People were able to purchase tickets that allowed them to sit in a small boat that floated on the water while they watched the performance, and some of the performances integrated the water into them.

He meant to go talk to Azura, but instead he found himself taking the opportunity to dance for no one but the empty room. It felt important. The steps of his mother’s dance flowed like they were meant to be here, like they were meant to be on a stage for the whole world to see. Alone he never suffered. The dance always raised his heart rate too high, always made him breathy and tired, but when he was alone… it never felt vulnerable.

Perhaps that was how he knew when someone was watching him. He always seemed to catch it far too late, to notice eyes on him when they had already seen more than he wanted. Owain had seen that dance a few times (with and without permission) and it was always the same story. At some point in the dance Inigo felt weaker, felt anxious, felt like he was giving up a part of himself to the sway of his hips or the turns that made him feel like his chest was on fire.

Giving up a part of himself… that was how he felt when he decided someone was watching him in that moment, too. That was how he felt when he heard her voice say his name. “Inigo?”

His heart stopped. Not for good. Just for a second. It fluttered wrong, it skipped a beat, and he turned to face Azura with some amount of embarrassment, but… Not too much. He hated to let people see unfinished routines, but she was different because they practiced unfinished dances together every day. It was, however, a little embarrassing for him to be dancing like a fool on an empty stage. How had she even wandered past him? What sort of convenient destiny was that? “Hah—Azura—I was actually just looking for…”

“Please, Inigo, be careful with that dance.” She spoke very softly as she approached him, as if she didn’t want anyone else to walk by and overhear. When she was standing right in front of him, eye to eye, she said “If the wrong person walked in here while you performed, you could be seriously injured.”

Inigo tried to catch his breath while he asked “I’m… sorry? Injured?”

“Yes. Those are no ordinary steps… you know that, don’t you?” Azura asked. She crossed her arms and Inigo thought… it was bizarre for her to even know about the dance, let alone that it had some sort of crazy myth tied to it. More accurately though he was amazed, because she knew something he may not have.

“Can you tell me more about this dance? Do you know the steps? My mother passed away before she could finish teaching me, and I…”

“Come with me.” Azura smiled at him but it was far from reassuring. She led him down the halls and to her office (he should have gone there in the first place). Her office was not like Xander’s office. Although she did have a desk with which to do paperwork, it was more like a small studio. There was a tiny platform stage, and a piano to one side. A few other instruments were hung on the walls, such as a lyre and a flute.

Azura locked the door behind them, and she lowered the blinds on the windows, but then she walked to the stage and gestured to it. Inigo didn’t take the hint right away, but he eventually understood and so he stepped up there.

“Please, show me your dance. I will tell you what I know.”

And so Inigo danced. While he danced he didn’t really think much of Azura humming a tune. He thought at first it was to help him keep time. The more he thought about it the more he thought her song fit perfectly to that dance. It was like they were meant to stay together. He didn’t focus on how mysterious the tune was, only the pitches only the rhythms. He noticed that when his turns took three steps her notes formed triplets. He noticed her crescendo and decrescendos overlapped when the dance was lively or gentle.

But then he tilted his chin and extended his fingers and he expected to end his dance, because this was the part he did not know. He expected to transition into the ending that he had made up for himself, the unfinished portion of the dance. But then Azura’s song transitioned from humming into lyrics, and he swore he was put into a trance.

He didn’t know what Azura sang, what her words were, but he found his body turning into steps he had never danced before. His eyes felt glazed, and he thought he was living in a flashback. He could see his mother, he could see her bright smile and she danced for him. It was vivid and fresh in his memory, more bright and clear than the day she died. She showed him her dance and her twinkling voice told him she loved him, and when he blinked open his eyes… everything stopped.

Azura stopped singing, and Inigo was distinctly aware of an eerie glow beneath her blouse. He suspected it belonged to the necklace she always wore, but he didn’t mention it. He couldn’t, because he was so… amazed. For a moment he could have sworn he was standing there with his mother and… he had no idea what had just happened.

“You remember the steps now.”

It was less of a question than a comment and Inigo felt somewhat betrayed by it if he was honest. He was out of breath and weak and nervous and more than ever he felt like Odin’s theories of magic were the only possible answer. But it wasn’t a lie. He finished that dance the way his mother used to, and his memory kept replaying the sight of her performance in front of his eyes. He didn’t think he could forget that image if he tried every day for the rest of his life. He could _see her_. “What…”

Azura looked calm, but certainly not any bit energetic. She walked away from Inigo and instead took a seat behind her desk. He thought she fell somewhat heavily into it. He didn’t comment on it. She said “Inigo, your mother once heard me sing my song, and she told me about her dance. I believe they are very similar. This may sound… farfetched…”

Inigo was beyond worrying about farfetched theories. Azura sang a song that made him “magically” remember and learn the end of his mother’s dance, and he… wanted to hear everything she had to say. He could decide what he wanted to believe, later.

“There is magic in music. In our voices, in our instruments, in our dances. Some music, however, is not just tradition. Some songs weave spells. Mine, for example… I believe it serves a great purpose. I’ve only ever used it a time or two but it always seems to give people back a part of themselves that they had lost. Yours… Your dance is less of a mystery. Your mother knew the story that was passed down with it.”

Inigo rolled in his lips. He knew the story too. Sort of. She said that their family once used their dances to protect heroes and kings. “Your dance is rejuvenation, Inigo. When you perform it, you are offering a piece of your strength to someone else. Every time you do this, you become vulnerable to your surroundings. Take care that you only perform that dance for the people who will use that gift to keep you safe.”

Inigo swallowed a lump in his throat but he didn’t feel any better. He didn’t like that Azura knew so much about the dance, about magical stories. What was the point of a dance that would make you weaker? When would a situation ever arise when he had to give his own strength to make someone else carry on? It was… irrelevant, he thought. But he was still so grateful… She taught him something amazing. She taught him the end of his mother’s dance.

This was far from what he came to Cyrkensia for. His whole body felt heavy since the dance had ended, and he thought if he took a step off that stage he would collapse… so he stayed still and waited to catch his breath. While he did, Azura cast him a small smile. “A spell in the form of song lyrics or dance steps can be passed from generation to generation without requiring the ability to read, you see. Many theorists suggest this is how most spells were passed down before tomes. Your family’s dance may be as old as the world, Inigo.”

His chest felt heavy and it burned more than usual but he opened his mouth anyway. “Azura,”

“Hmm?”

“I quit.”

…

In retrospect he supposed he shouldn’t have dropped that news on her while both of them were weakened by some ancient voodoo he didn’t even understand. He thought he should have waited until his emotions were in check again, until he could understand why he felt so weak and why he felt like he could reach out and touch his mother any time he thought of that memory.

But he hadn’t. Azura was obviously surprised to hear that Inigo was quitting the ballet. Of course he wasn’t quitting cold turkey. He promised her to finish up the February performances. His resignation was effective the first of march.

Of course according to the terms of his contract, that meant he would only be paid for the month he completed. Just one. He didn’t mind. He knew that he had put a burden on her shoulders when he quit, because she would have to replace him… but she smiled at him and promised she understood when he explained his situation to her. She said that family always should come first… and he wondered if she thought Xander counted as his family, because he was his soulmate.

“At least you were famous for a month!” Owain had offered as some form of consolation when he admitted to having quit. Inigo supposed that was true. For a whole month he performed and for a whole month people treated him like he was someone special. For a whole month he lived his dream of dancing on the stage where his mother danced. Inigo liked to tell himself that he had no regrets about quitting, but part of him wondered if he would ever have an opportunity like that in his life again. Azura had seemed hopeful he would return sometime, but… he had no idea when that day would be. He just knew that he couldn’t tour the country when his soulmate needed him _right there_ in Nohr.

Owain had not been thrilled to hear that Inigo wanted to move in with Xander. He had remarkably few concerns in terms of Niles living with him. In fact, most of his concerns had nothing to do with himself and were focused on _Inigo_. “Are you _sure_ you want to do this?” Owain asked him for about the third time in the last hour. Inigo had, of course, given him the same answer every time. This time was no different, save that they were struggling to rearrange furniture in an apartment that was now void of anything that belonged to Niles. (Probably for the best, all things considered.)

It had cost Inigo a pretty penny to trade leases with Niles, and then to refurnish and stock up on groceries and the like. It wasn’t exactly an easy process. It was tricky to trade homes. Inigo was used to his two bedroom with Owain, used to the big living room and big kitchen. Niles had lived in a pretty small studio apartment. The kitchen was open and practically overlapped the living area, and the “bedroom” was actually just a nook with half of a wall separating it from the rest of the home. The only ‘room’ per se was the bathroom, which was just spacious enough to have a toilet, a tub/shower combo, and one cabinet that hosted the sink.

Needless to say it wasn’t hard to rearrange furniture in that apartment when it was only one big room. In the _very least_ it was cost effective. Inigo had paid the first month of bills up front with his check from Azura, but he would be able to pay all of the bills after that with his job at… the gym. Teaching yoga. He supposed he should have counted his blessings that the old couple who owned the gym hired him back, and not only that—they hired him on full time. Five days a week, eight hour days. He would teach Yoga for half of his day and play the receptionist game the other half. It was far from glamourous but… it was a start.

Owain asked Inigo if he was sure he wanted to do this and it was obvious that no matter how many times Inigo suggested he did that he wasn’t buying it. And maybe that was because part of Inigo _didn’t want to_. He obviously didn’t want to give up living with his best friend to move into a hole in the wall in a sketchy part of town. But he _had to_.

He had to because if he didn’t get Xander out of jail, who would?

“I appreciate your concern, but this apartment isn’t _that bad_.” Inigo joked, but it was with a hint of sarcasm too. It _was_ a little bad. The outside of the windows were grated and the walls were thin enough that Inigo could hear every car that whizzed by outside. But… it was clean. Niles had spent most of his time living at work or with his family, so he hadn’t really left a huge mess. He’d even paid to have the carpets cleaned before he traded leases with Inigo which was… kind of sweet in a weird way. Or scary. Inigo wondered if there was something in those carpets that warranted cleaning?

“It’s really not that.” Owain’s voice was low and quiet and Inigo thought that was the way he sounded when he was most serious. He closed his mouth and watched him, until Owain sighed. “He broke your heart, Inigo. Are you really going to just act like it never happened? Soulmate or not, he was cruel, and…”

“I’m not going to get hurt, Owain.” He sounded more confident than he felt on the subject. Truth be told he had been thinking all day about what he would do when he brought Xander back to this new place, to call home. He didn’t want to forgive Xander right away. He owed Inigo an apology or eighty, after all. But he also didn’t want to _hate_ him. He didn’t hate him, after all. He _missed him_.

Honestly he had no idea what was going to happen. He just hoped it was reasonable and easy and as stress-free as possible. “Really! Besides, shouldn’t you be more worried about yourself? How will you get any writing done with such a serious _distraction_ living with you?”

Owain blushed and laughed and Inigo thanked whatever gods were listening that worked. He loved Owain of course, but… he didn’t need a defensive brother in that moment…He just needed his optimistic friend. Inigo was going to pick up Xander later that day and… Well, they would come back to the apartment, Xander would get settled in, Inigo would shower away the sweat of moving day.

What could go wrong?

…

 _How did this happen_?

There was a reason that Inigo’s knees were hooked over Xander’s broad shoulders. Inigo couldn’t think of a very good one, though. His lashes touched his cheeks while Xander pressed hot kisses along the inside of his thighs. His skin was still a little damp from his shower—his hair was literally forming a small wet spot in the pillow situated under his head.

Everything Inigo had planned for that evening had been right… if not awkward. His reunion with Xander was embarrassing. Xander looked somewhat ashamed of himself, Inigo was humiliated for having made the decision that they should move in together without even really asking him. But worst of all neither of them seemed to have a voice. They had everything to talk about but neither of them said a word about it. The ride back home in the taxi was silent, and the only thing Inigo really noticed was Xander sorting through the bag of belongings he had been given back from the day he turned himself in.

He pushed the earring back into his ear. Inigo smiled at that, and turned to look out the window.

That wasn’t when everything went wrong. Inigo was sure of that. They arrived at the apartment. Xander had been there a few times before when it belonged to Niles, but he must have been surprised at the mini make over it received. Eventually Xander asked Inigo what his intended sleeping arrangements would be. Because there was only one bed, after all, and while big enough for two, their relationship was shaken. Inigo hesitated in his answer, too. He wanted to say that they could sleep together, that it wouldn’t matter… but he felt like that would be too much. They were recovering from a break up, not best friends having a slumber party. And so instead of that, he said that he would sleep on the couch, and that Xander could sleep on the bed.

Xander seemed bothered by that, but he said nothing.

Eventually Inigo followed through in his plan to take a shower, and _that_ was where things began to get messed up. He was so desperate to wash away the day that he forgot to bring a towel with him, specifically. So… like any adult would, he called through the door and asked Xander to bring him one. Xander did… but when he asked if it was safe to open the door Inigo’s words must have been lost in translation…Because Xander ended up walking in to the bathroom and Inigo sure was naked.

What did someone do in that situation? Inigo had no idea what the proper reaction was to that. It was his soulmate, and certainly this was far from the first time he had stood naked before Xander, but… that was when they were dating, when they were in love. This time he was standing naked in front of Xander and he felt exposed and _humiliated_ and he yelped and tried to step closer to rip the towel from him to _cover himself_ …

Instead he slipped. Xander reached out and grabbed for him. The towel drifted down to the floor in a half-folded heap, and Xander braced one hand on Inigo’s shoulder and the other clamped down over his hip. To stabilize him. Xander had done nothing but try to catch him before he hit the ground hard. 

There could be no mistake. Inigo was the one who was an idiot in all this. Xander simply followed his lead.

Instead of stabilizing Inigo at all, Xander’s touch on the marking on his hip did what it _always_ did. It shot _liquid fire_ through his veins, it made it hard to breathe. Xander’s face was tinted pink when Inigo looked up into his eyes. He was embarrassed for having walked in on him, no doubt. Inigo didn’t focus on that, it didn’t even matter. He just focused on the fire in his blood and the way Xander was so close he could feel him breathe and how he was weak in the knees, and he leaned up and made the stupidest decision of the night. He kissed him.

Inigo would have suggested to anyone who ever asked his advice not to desperately kiss a man while you’re naked, unless you want to start something. (He doubted anyone would ever seek his advice on the subject.)

When Inigo decided to move in with Xander the very first thing he promised himself was that he would not date him. Not right away. He wanted to sort out all of their _everything_ first. He wasn’t going to date Xander again until he knew why he broke up with him, the full story. He didn’t want to be involved with him until his heart had undeniably forgiven him… because he hated the resentment he sometimes felt when he thought of that night, and lying in the snow.

Needless to say, he was a hypocrite and a _liar_ because he was the one who started it. Xander seemed somewhat startled by the kiss when it was initiated. Inigo was the one who reached out and combed his fingers through Xander’s hair. _Inigo_ was the one who pushed his very nude self flush against Xander’s chest. Inigo was the one who got himself into this mess.

There was a _reason_ that Inigo’s knees were hooked over Xander’s shoulders, but not a very good one. Later Inigo would try to swear it wasn’t his fault. He would blame the magic of soulmates. He would blame the swell of relief and comfort that came with the touch of the man who was meant to love him. It would all be a lie, however, because Inigo knew well and good it had nothing to do with the touch of soulmates. It had to do with Inigo being _damn_ selfish. It had to do with Inigo taking advantage of Xander… because he worried that he was.

(Would Xander have done anything in his power to earn Inigo’s forgiveness, or had he missed those kisses and touches as badly as his soulmate?)

Xander’s kisses trailed up his thighs and Inigo thought he had a pretty good idea of what was going to happen to him at that point. Part of him wondered if he should stop him. There was no just or fair reason why Xander should have sucked Inigo’s dick. They weren’t dating, they weren’t _anything_. They had barely even just been in the same room together for two hours.

But Xander didn’t do what Inigo expected and Inigo _still_ didn’t stop him.

His eyes had drifted shut when he thought about the events that led him to that moment. They stayed shut even when Xander pressed Inigo’s thighs forward until they touched his own chest, and even when he used his thumbs to spread his cheeks apart and get a better ‘view’.

Inigo's eyes snapped open wide when he felt hot, moist tongue pressed flat against his asshole. It was the last place that Xander’s mouth had _any business_ being, and maybe that was part of why it felt like a sparkler effect of pleasure. Needless to say Inigo jolted, tried to escape it. The sensation itself was far from unpleasant (in fact, Inigo _loved it_ ) but the taboo of it all had him worried.

Xander didn’t let him move, though. He’d done a good job of holding Inigo’s hips in place with just the pressure of the hands that were currently holding him open and exposed. His grip on Inigo’s bottom was almost bruising, it felt, but Inigo couldn’t have cared less. It didn’t hurt, not really. Xander drew his tongue over Inigo and licked slow and hot a few times before he pulled back his mouth and blew a stream of cool air against him. Inigo tried _so hard_ to arch his back, to squirm. He wasn’t sure if he wanted more attention, or less. Xander pressed the very tip of his tongue firm and pointed against Inigo’s entrance, and his tongue sank in just a hair.

 _More attention, for sure_. The moans Inigo panted out were unfair to the new neighbors. They were surely going to pass judgement from day one. Or perhaps they already were used to this, based on the previous tenant? Inigo dropped his arms back over his head and gripped at the sheets below him like they could ground him, but nothing could have grounded Inigo through Xander’s tongue diving into him.

That morning Inigo probably wouldn’t have even thought this was a real thing that people did. He wouldn’t have guessed that he would be reduced to hot whimpers and moans every time his soulmate swirled his tongue against his inner walls.

He could have probably gotten off just like that. He didn’t think he would have needed any help or extra touching… because he was so high on Xander _anyway_. He didn’t _want_ to get off like that, however. It was barely a passing thought when Inigo realized he was doing absolutely nothing to return this monumental favor. There Xander was, going _way_ above and beyond Inigo’s expectations, and what was he doing? Moaning and squirming like a true idiot. He needed to do _something_ about it. Xander spread him farther, pressed his tongue deeper, and Inigo’s knuckles were white with how tightly he was gripping the sheets.

 _Ooh._ Indulging in this sweet torture much longer would end things way too quickly. If Inigo wanted to have sex (and he did, he was realizing, he really did) he needed to change the game. “X-Xander,” He panted out, but he was sure that it came across as a plea for attention and not just as another moan. He knew, because he felt Xander _hum_ , like he was asking what Inigo could possibly want to interrupt him for.

For sex, _obviously_. Inigo was _aching_ to have more than this. Xander’s tongue was amazing but there was an itch growing in Inigo that he knew wouldn’t be scratched without _more_. “P-Please,” Inigo panted, and for the first time since this had begun he tried to push his hips _down_ , and away from the blonde’s mouth. “I want…” Inigo didn’t really say what he wanted. If he had been asked out loud and forced to think about it, he could honestly have admitted he didn’t know. He had no idea what he wanted because this was not part of the plan. The plan was that he was going to work things out with Xander slowly and get over his reservations. The plan had not included making a fool of himself and starting something like this.

Inigo didn’t say what he wanted but Xander must have known because he sat back on his knees and guided Inigo’s legs back down to the bed. He must have known because he gently patted his leg in a way that formed a signal in Inigo’s brain to turn over. He situated himself on his knees but the most of his weight ended up supported by his forearms.

Xander slid his hand past his bottom, traced his fingers over the script on Inigo’s hip and sent another wave of heat through him, but then he drew his fingertips along his spine. He traced the vines of the morning glories on Inigo’s back, and Inigo whimpered a moan. He felt the heat of Xander’s hands spread out over the small of his back all the way up to his shoulder blades, rubbing away the stress of the day but also causing Inigo’s mind to flash ahead. It seemed (irrationally?) as though Xander was stalling, but… why?

 _Ah,_ Inigo’s brain caught up to his over reacting hormones and he shifted away from Xander. He hadn’t unpacked everything, not really. His bag with little toiletries and last minute packing, that was just tucked under the bed. He leaned over the side of the bed so far that he nearly slipped—but Xander held his hips firmly to prevent him from sliding too far. He only had to rifle around in the bag for a few moments before his fingers wrapped around a slender bottle. Once he passed that to his (ex?) soulmate, the stalling ended. Damn near immediately, even.

Xander pushed Inigo back onto his knees and Inigo shifted to do literally anything in his power to accommodate the blonde. Sure, the little voice in the back of his mind was telling him that this was a horrible idea but… honestly he didn’t really care what the little voice was saying. If Xander had a little voice he was clearly ignoring it too, because he barely even took the time to warm the lube up with his fingers before one, and then another, were dipping inside of him.

Inigo’s head dropped down, his eyes slid closed before his forehead hit the sheets. His head was swimming in chaos before about what was right and wrong but everything melted into the daze that came over him. Xander moved his fingers very deliberately. He curled his fingers _just right_ now and then, a gentle reminder of what was to come while he worked him open. Each time it happened Inigo struggled to breathe, struggled to keep his balance on his arms and not to just collapse into the bed.

Xander’s other hand steadied Inigo, his palm spread hot over his lower back. In the blur of sensations, it was the absence of that hand he noticed first, before finally Xander pulled away his fingers. The feeling was empty and desperate and wrong—worse than when Xander pulled his mouth away before. It was also anticipation with the clicking sound the lid of the lube made, with the bit of a squelch that Inigo knew was the glossy lubricant being spread thick onto Xander’s cock.

He could remember, of course. They had done this only once before, but then it was much more controlled. Inigo hadn’t felt like he was on fire and Xander faced him to kiss him into a pile of blankets and pillows and comfort. This time Xander was behind him, Inigo’s heart jolted with uncertainty and excitement while he waited. This felt somehow more vulnerable, but he was not afraid.

Inigo sucked in a breath when he felt the head of Xander’s cock rub over his entrance. The stretch was addicting, Inigo thought he could have done that every day, but it was also bordering on too much. It filled him with sticky, syrupy heat that swirled around his gut and put stars in front of his eyes that he had to blink a time or two to clear away. It was slow and Xander guided his hips, leading Inigo back onto him until he bottomed out and Inigo was nearly in his lap. He slid one of his hands up, wrapped around Inigo’s chest and when his fingertips brushed over his nipple he rubbed small circles over it just for good measure.

 _Support_. Inigo may not have known why Xander chose to hold him across his chest like that until the moment he withdrew himself just slightly and pressed back in to set a pace. Inigo began to lurch forward and was met by that grip, and Xander’s other hand braced over the script. Inigo couldn't see Xander's soulmate marking like this, but he had seen it before, on his leg. _Don’t look at me_ , it said, but it was so far from the truth now it was funny. Inigo wanted, in that moment, to be the only person Xander ever looked at like this.

Xander’s breath was on his neck and Inigo felt the shudder that he exhaled with the first two or three rolls of his hips. Each time he drove just a hair deeper, just enough that Inigo felt like he was filled to the brim over and again. Inigo’s breath came out ragged right away. This was all he could have asked for and more. This was what he wanted—he knew for sure now.

There was no resistance to the thrusts, more like Xander was grinding deep because he hardly withdrew himself at all at first. His fingertips were nearly bruising in their grip on Inigo’s hip but his thumb rubbed gentle circles. Then all at once the pace changed. Xander guided Inigo back down where Inigo was forced to catch himself with his arms on the sheets. Once his fingers hit the bed they knotted into the cotton and Xander’s arm that once held his chest dragged back down (with a hint of a bite where he let his nails catch) to his hip bone. Inigo’s heart skipped beats to stay in time with the speed with which Xander slammed into him. Each slam of their bodies together pressed Inigo down hard into the bed, teased the tip his quite swollen erection against the sheets and made him twice as desperate for contact that was just out of reach.

“ _Inigo,”_ It came out of Xander’s mouth as something of a moan but more like it was dripping with months of affection that had been withheld, like with just one word he could make up for all those lost touches and kisses and laughter that never was. (In his dazed state, with his lips parted and quite moans and whispers of praise slipping through them, Inigo thought perhaps it _was_ enough. Almost.)

Xander’s hand slid past Inigo’s hip, over his abs and down close enough that his pinky finger brushed the base of his cock. The result was a more-than-obvious twitch and a _whine_ because Inigo was close and he knew that would tip him over the edge.

Inigo’s grip on the sheets grew stronger when Xander filled his whine of a request and pumped his hand on Inigo’s cock in tandem with the thrusts that hit impossibly perfect. Inigo’s voice turned away from moans and whines and into a perpetual prayer to the gods and to Xander for harder, _please harder_ , until his breath was ripped from his throat and he came white hot into Xander’s hand.

He didn’t know when, not really, that his lover finished. For all he knew he came before him, because Inigo was drowning in pleasure and he didn’t come down from that high until Xander pushed him onto his back and used a long-discarded shirt or _something_ to wipe him clean.

Inigo was supposed to sleep on the couch and let Xander have the bed alone, but Xander pressed him gently into the pillows and in spite of how hot it felt with heat still coming off of them in waves, Xander wrapped his arms around Inigo’s waist and laid his head on his chest and he closed his eyes. For a while, Inigo laid there with his eyes closed, too. He combed his fingers through Xander’s hair—still beautiful and curled—and he thought about… well what an idiot he was.

His eyes slid open but it was dark in the apartment now. The lights were out, the moon was in the sky. He wondered if he dozed off, but Xander was still sleeping with his arms wrapped tight around him. Inigo reached for the little table beside the bed where his phone had been left before he even showered. His fingertips barely brushed it, but with a good stretch he managed to pull it closer. It was late, but he went to his messages.

Owain had asked him a few times how things were going. He must have truly been worried things may get awkward. He had _no idea_ , Inigo thought, just how awkward. With the sound muted so the noises may not wake Xander, Inigo used one hand to sloppily tell him what happened. He told him he had sex, he told him he couldn’t believe he had just done that… and he expected a lecture based on the way Owain had been behaving earlier that day.

But he didn’t get a lecture. In fact, just a question. Inigo brushed his thumb through Xander’s curls again while he read _“Do you regret it?”_

He told Owain he didn’t know, but he thought that he didn’t. He thought he had no regrets about what happened that night… only regrets about not learning the whole truth about Xander’s and his breakup, first.

…

Morning came with the brutal reality that their curtains were not dark enough to blot it out and the sun rose right above their bed. Inigo squinted his eyes shut to try and chase away the red light behind his eyelids, and he turned over—only to be met with Xander’s chest and the realization that he hadn’t actually dreamt up any of the night before. That, and the second realization that he had just whacked him in the face when he turned over.

He realized his arm was numb where he let Xander sleep on it all night, but he didn’t focus on that so much as blurting out an apology, and trying not to smile when he watched Xander’s face crinkle up with discomfort at the wake-up call. “I’m sorry.”

Xander shook his head and lifted up his arm. He combed through Inigo’s hair with his fingers and the realization that he’d gone to sleep with his hair damp sort of explained why Xander had a tiny smirk on his face. Inigo’s hair was probably _ridiculous_. He said nothing on the subject though. Inigo watched the tiny smirk give way to a frown, and then Xander cleared his throat. “I am sorry, for what I did to you, Inigo.”

Inigo had a sneaking suspicion he wasn’t apologizing for the sex. This was the conversation he wanted to have, but he didn’t want it to just be Xander apologizing. He wanted to know _why._ Why had he decided breaking up was the only option? Why didn’t he let Inigo try to help him in the first place? “Xander, I…”

“Please, listen.” Xander spoke like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and Inigo supposed the least he could do was try to allow him to get it off of his chest. He bit his lip and held in any more words of protest. They would have time to talk it all out. Inigo just needed to be… patient. It was not his strong suit, but he would try, he supposed. “I do not regret my decision to shelter you, nor do I expect your forgiveness for a while yet. I only want you to know that I am sorry for all of the pain you felt.”

 _Angry_. Inigo didn’t know why it made him angry. Maybe because he didn’t like that Xander _knew_ how much pain he put Inigo in by breaking up with him. Maybe because he wondered if he knew that Inigo nearly froze to death, nearly had to go to the hospital. He wondered if he knew that every day was an ache that wouldn’t go away. He was also… sorrowful. He hated the idea that Xander knew the same pain he felt, because it meant that maybe deep down Xander had the same pain. The only difference was that Inigo had the comfort of his family and friends, and Xander had no one at all to carry him through it. Inigo didn’t know what exactly he was supposed to say. He didn’t know how to even begin to talk about this yet. He wanted to ask a million questions but his voice wavered and he couldn’t even figure out where to begin. 

The longer he was silent, the more he felt like an idiot. They should have talked about this first, before they did  _anything else_ , let alone... Well he just hoped he hadn't messed things up worse than they were before.He pushed Xander over onto his back. His arm was tingling where it was coming back to life, but Inigo lowered himself so that he could press the smallest of kisses to Xander’s temple. He watched Xander close his eyes, before he said “Last night was a mistake.”

“I know.” Xander’s voice sounded hoarse. Inigo almost regretted saying those words out loud. He’d seen Xander cry once in his life, he didn’t want to risk seeing it again.

“Shh, you don’t know anything.” Inigo tried. “Last night was _stupid_ but working through this is not. I want to get back to where we were—I think—but I can’t be expected to fall back into a relationship and neither can you. We just need more time to heal.”

Neither of them cried that morning, thank goodness, but Inigo doubted that either of them felt very good either.

…

The first week they lived together was rough. Xander found out that Inigo quit his job with Azura and… Inigo thought that he must have felt very guilty about it. Maribelle came to visit to go over the scheduled court dates with Xander. The final trial would be later in the summer, but there were a number of smaller court dates leading up to it. Not only that, but so long as he was under house arrest he was at the mercy of a probation officer, and Maribelle advised him to be very careful to obey every rule presented to him.

(Maribelle also spoke very honestly about how she hated the apartment. Inigo laughed at his aunt when she said that, but he knew she was very far from joking. She had exquisite taste and the studio they were in was the very opposite of exquisite.)

Things got easier. Sitting in with them while they talked gave Inigo a better understanding of how the court case was going to work. He didn’t _like it_ by any means… but he could see the level of complexity. The more he listened the more he sort of… thought he understood why Xander broke ties with all of them. It kept all of them safe. It kept his siblings living wealthy without damaging their living situation at all.

That didn’t mean Inigo instantly forgave him for facing it alone. If Maribelle had been involved from the start, perhaps all of it could have been avoided. Inigo learned that Xander had reason to suspect his father and that Iago guy were up to something, and the moment he did he began gathering evidence to provide to the police. He also began cutting ties, because he knew he would be blamed, too.

Inigo wished Xander had just been selfish for five minutes of his life and asked for help.

Xander’s next court date would be to discuss some minor evidence, it seemed, and also to set the date for the official trial. Maribelle would be representing him there as well. That court date was going to be on the twentieth of March.

Elise came to visit on the 19th of March.

The knock on the door of their apartment startled Inigo because in general people had to be buzzed into the building. He looked away from the book he was reading and at Xander, who seemed equally surprised. “Probably nothing important.” Inigo offered.

If there was one thing Inigo was surprised by, it was that Xander refused to let his ‘confinement’ change his way of living. Not yet, at least. He woke up early, he showered each morning, he read articles and he wore slacks and button ups (and maybe that really was all he owned? Inigo could have sworn the man had a sweater or two somewhere).

It was for that reason that, in spite of the fact that his feet were lacking shoes, Xander looked very much like he always had when he answered the door and found his sister on the other side.

“Elise?” Inigo asked, but he didn’t move from his spot on the sofa. He noticed Xander’s shoulders tense just slightly. He noticed Elise suck in a breath of air like she was about to dive into a swimming pool… and then she let it go.

“Why did you leave us!?” She almost shrieked it—loud enough that Inigo knew someone across the hall could hear it. He winced, and Xander stepped aside and made room for her to come inside. She looked skeptical about it… but she did it.

She had a box of Tupperware in her hands. Inigo took one look at it and knew on instinct it had some sort of baked good in it, just waiting to be handed to Xander. Inigo though it was very sweet, in a sad way. Elise always gave people the benefit of the doubt, she always put her siblings first, and it was quite possibly a weakness, really.

“Elise,” Xander spoke in a tone of voice that Inigo was almost jealous of. It was soft and sweet and coated with an affection that he held for the youngest of his siblings. He pushed the door to the apartment closed, and when he did he said “Happy birthday, little princess.”

Inigo couldn’t have said he knew it was Elise’s birthday that day. He set aside the book and shifted so he could sit cross legged on the sofa, so he could watch this play out. Xander wasn’t on good terms with any of his siblings, not really. Niles had barely spoken to him since the move, but Inigo knew he was just dealing with it his own way.

“How did you find out where I was?” Xander asked, and Elise narrowed her eyes. It was laughable, her expression was more of a pout than anger, but Xander must have taken her very seriously because he took the box away from her, set it gently on the small table by the sofa, and he lowered himself to his knees in front of her. That put him below her eye level, it allowed her to look down on him. She crossed her arms at him and huffed.

“I can figure out anything.” She answered, as if it was obvious, but then she added a quiet huff. “I made Niles tell me.”

 _Made_.

Inigo had a feeling Niles had a box of cookies, too.

“Why did you leave? You could have stayed with us, Xander! Leo and Camilla can do _anything_ , they could have…” Her eyes welled up with big, round tears. Inigo watched Xander’s frown turn down further, watched him reach out and use his thumbs to brush away the tears on her face. “Y-You’re the best big brother in the whole w-world Xander..! And now you’re in so much trouble, and you might go to jail, and…” She hiccupped through her words. She looked absolutely miserable.

No doubt she was. Inigo knew very well that every time someone in that family had a birthday, Elise threw a huge party. He imagined her birthday party was the most elaborate, because her siblings came together and made up for a year’s worth of her generosity and love. That evening she would probably have a birthday party with her entire family, but it would be lacking Xander altogether.

“You know if I could have stayed with you, I would have.” Xander answered her, but his primary focus was on wiping away her tears as they formed. She bit her lip and tried to hold her sobs in, but eventually she broke down and threw her arms tight around Xander’s shoulders. He rubbed his hand along her back while she hugged him. Inigo looked away, because he felt like he was intruding on something incredibly personal. Still, he heard Xander say “I love you very much, Elise. I am sorry for having left you. When everything is over, I promise to spend as much time with you as you wish.”

Elise hiccupped in his arms again, but when she pulled away from Xander she had a big smile on her face. “Promise you’ll come back to us?” She asked. She held out her pinky finger. Xander looped his pinky through hers, and honestly a pinky promise was legal and binding as far as Inigo was concerned. Elise wiped the last of her tears on her sleeves before she picked up the box she brought and opened it for Xander. “Okay. I forgive you.” She said. “I brought you cookies and cupcakes! I’m sorry you have to miss the party.”

“No,” He said, “I am sorry to miss your party. I will make it up to you tenfold, when I can.”

Elise nodded her head and set the box down (but only after insisting Xander take a cookie from it). She turned her attention to Inigo, then, and she approached him with fire in her eyes. “And _you!_ ” She began.

“Me?” Inigo asked, straightening his back when he was addressed like that. “Yes?”

“You better take good care of Xander, do you hear me? Niles and Owain said you’re the only one who can.”

Inigo pushed his bangs out of his face somewhat and a tiny smile slipped up onto his face. “Did they now?” He asked. He supposed even when they seemed concerned, they had faith in him. Or at least they had enough faith to tell Elise that. It gave him a swell of pride, anyway. Inigo was Xander’s _soulmate_.

He was going to fix this.

“I will protect him with my life, Milady.” He teased, of course. He’d have tipped his hat if he had one, or bowed if he was standing, but faced with no other option he took her hand and kissed the back of it. “Happy birthday, Elise.”

...

Elise stayed with them for a good portion of the day, but left when it was getting close to time for her party. Xander looked happier than he had in weeks when she was there, but the stress he was feeling crept back into his posture the moment she left. That was why Inigo insisted that Xander _finally_ try to do some yoga.

Inigo owned about a hundred pairs of yoga-suited pants. Xander did not. It took a fair share of digging to find a pair of sweat pants that Inigo deemed acceptable, and even then Xander looked skeptical. He should have counted his blessings that Inigo didn’t try to convince him to borrow a pair of his. Xander was too tall, anyway, so the sweat pants spared his dignity.

They had to push the coffee table out of the living area to make enough room to stretch, but Inigo was pretty confident in himself. He had joked with Xander a hundred times that he was breathing wrong, that he was too tense.

“I want to start with something easy.” Inigo offered. Xander looked at him with hesitation. “No, I promise! Just bend down like you’re going to touch your toes, alright? Make sure you exhale when you bend over.”

“I’m not convinced this is going to do anything to relax me.” Xander muttered. Inigo grinned and put his hands on his hips.

“That’s not a very optimistic attitude. You can do anything you put your mind to. Now, walk forward on your hands so that your palms and your heels are pressed into the floor, and your knees are straight.”

It was a very simple position, but one that took a lot of practice to do just right. Inigo watched to make sure he followed the direction, and also to spot him (just in case he tipped over). He didn’t, though. Tip over, _or_ follow the direction, that was. The moment his hands hit the ground he shook his head.

“I am not this flexible.” Xander grumped, and Inigo chuckled. “Which is more important—to have my knees straight or my heels on the floor?”

“Knees.” Inigo answered. “Keep your knees straight and as you stretch try and press your heels into the floor.” It wasn’t as if it was a complicated question. Inigo did this every day (for a living)! This was… twice as fun, though. Partly because of the view of Xander’s bottom in the air. Partly because he was _not_ flexible. Not at all.

“The blood is pooling in my head.”

“I won’t let you pass out, you big baby.” Inigo promised. He took a step to the side and chuckled. “ _Wow_ , your heels are nowhere _near_ the floor.” Xander muttered something under his breath, but Inigo didn’t catch it, not really. He knew it was a complaint, though, and he grinned. “What was that?”

Inigo stood beside him, before he put himself in the same position as Xander. When he did he did so without flaw. His form was perfect, and he turned his head to the side to glance at Xander. “Feeling relaxed yet?”

“Not at all. I feel as though you’re showing off.” But his smile gave away that he was having fun. Fun! Was it possible? Inigo had wondered if they would ever be able to joke around again. “How long do we stay like this?”

“Until you stop being a grump.” Inigo flashed him a wide smile. “Get comfortable.” Inigo blew his bangs out of his face, but then he asked, “Say, did Niles happen to mention to you that a woman asked me out?” He was bragging, of course. At the time the event had been mortifying but… now it was something of a proud moment. “She was very cute.”

Xander must have found a hint of amusement in it, because he said “I thought you were unsuccessful in all your flirtatious endeavors?”

“Obviously I am getting more handsome with age.”

“And what did you say to her?” Xander asked.

Inigo’s face melted into a blush and he wondered how he hadn’t thought this would come up. Why had he even started this conversation with Xander? Even if he had a smile and an air of confidence around him, there was still a chance that beneath it he was hiding genuine jealousy or concern…

“Er—well, I obviously…”

“Obviously..?”

“I mean I told her… I told her no.” He didn’t look at Xander if only to spare himself some shame from his blush. He didn’t think that he could argue that the blood was rushing to his head, not when it was centralized on his cheeks. “I-I mean, not that I am necessarily ‘taken’ at the moment, but… well, you know.”

“Honestly? I do not know.” Xander whispered it. Inigo chewed his lip.

Yoga was supposed to be relaxing and empowering, but he wondered if either of them could truly ever relax while they were walking on eggshells around each other. There was one thing that kept bothering Inigo, that kept coming back to his mind… and he just wanted to clear the air. “Xander… did you really love me?”

Inigo sort of wished he had a way to remember the look of shock combined with how red Xander’s face was from the head rush he was suffering through. It was sort of funny, but not funny enough to make Inigo smile through the question. “Excuse me?”

“When we broke up. Niles told me… well he said that you told them, all of them, that you weren’t in love. I know it sounds silly to ask now—I just… I think I need to know if…”

“I have loved you since the day we met, Inigo. I’ve cherished you for your smiles, and for your shyness, and for your playfulness. You are generous even when you have nothing left to give. You are everything I am not, Inigo. What I said… I said to convince them that I could no longer be around you. It was a lie, and it tore me apart to say it out loud. If you believe nothing else I say to you, believe me when I say that I loved you—I _do_ love you. That has never stopped.”

What sort of answer had Inigo been hoping for? Part of him thought this was the best answer he could have dreamed of… but it was embarrassing none the less, and had him flustered so much that he stumbled and fell awkwardly to the side. From the corner of his eye he saw Xander shift so that he could try to catch him, but it wasn’t as if he was falling from a building. A few inches wouldn’t kill him.

“Inigo?”

He landed on his bottom and he didn’t care. He dusted himself off and stood back up on his feet, and that was when he extended his hands to help pull Xander up as well. He smiled wide for Xander, and Xander smiled something smaller, but genuine, at him in exchange. As Xander stood up, Inigo leaned close and pressed a tiny kiss quick and feather light against his cheek.

They had a long way to go. They had a court case ahead of them, Xander had broken bridges to repair, and honestly just between the two of them they had their work cut out for them, but… They were going to do it. They were soulmates, and they could make it through hell and back so long as they trusted each other. Trust was what was lacking Inigo thought. Trust was what he had been withholding from Xander, but he decided in that moment he couldn’t do that. Not anymore. “I believe you.”

Xander’s smile grew a little wider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it took me literally an entire month to update this fanfic. I just was so invested in a couple of ship weeks and moving that time really got away from me. Anyway, I have a (exceptionally lofty) goal of getting this fic done in the next month or so. We shall see. We've got to make our way all the way back to september :) 
> 
> I also am hoping the fact that this chapter is like 30 pages long makes up for the fact that I took so long.


	10. 10. Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Months That Felt Like Forever

_Summer_

 

The money that Inigo made in his time performing in Cyrkensia was probably the only reason why they were able to make it through, looking back on that summer. It was what paid for the utilities to switch, the fees for trading leases, and the groceries. It paid for Xander’s bail and the fee for the monitor that was strapped to Xander’s ankle. It wasn’t at all an appealing device either. It had a black strap and a little light on the side that turned red if he walked out of his designated area. It was _frustrating_. To Xander, of course, but also to Inigo.

The money Inigo made in his time performing was spent _quickly_ , to say the least, and so ended their first (and only) month of living fairly comfortably. Working at the gym, even full time, wasn’t really enough money to live on for two people. There was no good way to keep track of the money without a budget and so they quickly decided they needed to make one.

“It’s raining again.”

Inigo’s attention shifted away from his thoughts, away from the empty books and the stack of unpaid bills in front of them. Instead he turned his head to look out the window of their little apartment. (It was not necessarily large enough to call an apartment. It was more like a dorm room.  It didn’t matter: for now, it was home.) “You’ll find that it rains frequently in Nohr.” He teased, as if Xander hadn’t been born and raised in the gloomy, industrialized city.

Xander chuckled a sound quiet in his throat, but he didn’t particularly look happy. They were sitting on the floor, the two of them. It made it easier to work on the task at hand, which was using the coffee table as a work station to form a solid budget. It would have been easier if they had a proper set of chairs and a real table. Nothing had been easy thus far, and nothing would be easy that summer, however. “That isn’t quite what I meant. I think it has been raining a lot, lately. I wonder if it may be an omen.”

“Are you very superstitious?” Inigo asked. He hadn’t known Xander to buy into that sort of thing in the entire time he had known him, but he knew that the man had secrets. He was obviously very good at keeping them. Sometimes Inigo looked at his face and wondered how he had come to have such a huge secret. He wondered how he could have kept it all inside and not told a soul, not had a shoulder to lean on. He wondered if his real smile would come back soon, because he missed it.

“Not at all—although I wonder if I am in a position to argue with the possibility of such things.” Xander rolled in his lips and Inigo wondered what that meant. He wondered if he was feeling bothered about his current situation. He didn’t much talk about it when Maribelle wasn’t around, and Inigo respected that because… well if it were him he wouldn’t want to think about it either.

…But Xander had no business feeling lackluster over something so trivial as rain, and so Inigo reached out and shoved his shoulder, gently. From there he clasped it, gave a soft squeeze, and he said “Did you know that I have very strong intuition about the rain?”

Xander glanced at Inigo with a skeptical smile. “Do you?”

Inigo flashed him a wide grin, one to chase away the skepticism. “Of course. I have it on good authority this rain has nothing to do with an omen. The only thing rain in April is good for is bringing flowers come May. Chin up, buttercup.”

Xander’s smile was radiant when it was genuine. It used to melt Inigo when they first started dating, and to be quite honest it was still something of a powerful distraction. It was like a piece of him, the real him, the beautiful man beneath the mask of indifference, was shining through the cracked exterior. Inigo wondered if he would be able to meet the real Xander, now. There wouldn’t be any more secrets between them, right? He turned his attention back down to the table and pushed his hands through his hair. “Now then… how do we begin?”

Xander shook his head slowly. “I’ve already got an idea of things.” He picked up the pile of bills and sifted through them, before passing them to Inigo to look at. “Electricity, water, and gas… these are the things with the highest priority, after the rent. With your income, you make just enough to pay the bills with a small budget for groceries and other expenses left over.”

“How small?”

“Quite.” Xander answered. He pushed a notebook towards Inigo. He was surprised to see a budget already drawn up, but he supposed while he was at work Xander had to entertain himself with something. They didn’t have cable or wifi (luxuries they simply could not afford!) and so the only entertainment was to read, or Inigo’s iPad. It was a gift from his Aunts the previous Christmas, and honestly… he was quite lucky they paid for his phone bill, because if they weren’t he wouldn’t have that luxury either.

(Inigo read books on his iPad, and oftentimes used the data plan to watch videos or movies with Xander. They had to sit very close to watch it, together, on such a small screen. Almost like cuddling. Inigo liked that.)

“I believe you will have to get a metro pass to get to and from work efficiently.”

Inigo rolled his eyes. “I can walk. It isn’t far. Besides, a bus pass is just a waste of money and we’re clearly pinching pennies.”

“It…” Xander hesitated, but concern was very… clear on his features. Inigo tipped his ear to his shoulder and waited.

“…It..?”

“It is dangerous to walk. This is not a safe part of town and I…” He couldn’t be there to escort him. Inigo knew what his concern was, when he said it like that. He worried because he knew about how easily Inigo was shaken by guns. It had happened once already, since they had lived in that apartment. A sound that could have just as easily been a car backfiring rang out in the night not far from their window, and Inigo spent the rest of the night pressed tight into Xander’s chest, instead of in his spot sleeping on the couch.

“Alright.”

Xander must have been relieved, but he said nothing. Inigo looked down at the budget plan in his hands. This was going to be hard. They would have to shop at a discount grocery store, they would have to live off of horribly cheap meals like boxed macaroni or tuna helper or ramen noodles, and they would be giving up most luxuries like coffee or tea or even name brands.

It was going to be difficult, but they were going to get through it just fine. He was worried about Xander, of course. He had lived a cushioned, rich life for his entire life… and he probably wasn’t even familiar with how a microwave worked, honestly. He was also worried about money. They had no insurance, if either of them were to get sick or injured they would be helpless. They had no money for emergencies, _nothing_ could go wrong.

Things felt abysmal in the moment. Inigo glanced away from the budget, and out the window. Rain beat against it, and droplets dribbled down until they joined with one another, and then slipped the rest of the way down the glass. He said a little prayer that the sun came out after the rain.

…

It was the most horrifying thing that had happened in, well, a while. Inigo came home from work and he was _tired_. The gym was having some financial trouble, and so in an effort to raise membership sales and gain customers, they were offering a free, two-week, trial membership. It was amazing how many people were interested in taking yoga classes when they were free! Inigo ended up teaching three, that day.

Yoga was not exhausting, to Inigo. It was a great work out and very relaxing, but it was the _people_ who exhausted him. Teaching Xander how to reach into a mountain pose properly was fun and easy. Inigo loved watching his soulmate try to maintain balance. He also loved that he was slowly building some amount of flexibility, and able to reach closer to previously unreachable goals. That was different.

Teaching new people was always a challenge. Some people were shy about being scrutinized for how they were breathing, standing, or even sitting. Some people got defensive about it. The fact that Inigo had a middle aged woman _yell at him_ because he didn’t know what he was doing was… surprising.

(Maybe she could teach the class? Who really needed Inigo anyway?)

 It was going to be a tough two weeks, he could already tell, but if all went well and he proved himself to be a worthy teacher (to everyone except _that woman_ ) his classes would fill up. Full classes meant more income, and the gym would be doing better than ever. He was optimistic. For the most part.

However, when he came home he expected that stress to melt away. Although Xander and Inigo hadn’t really finished the repairs to their relationship, they were still comfortable enough around each other that the awkwardness had faded away. With that out of the picture, all that was left was the subtle comfort that soulmates brought by nature… and while Inigo didn’t like to abuse Xander’s kindness, he had a feeling that if he asked nicely he would let him lean against him and complain about his day.

When he opened the door something was off right away. Xander wasn’t there—but obviously that wasn’t true. It only took a second for Inigo’s ears to register the sound of the shower pouring down through the thin walls. He thought it was strange for Xander to be showering in the evening—he usually did that in the mornings—but he didn’t think that much of it.

He sighed and stepped out of his shoes. He dropped his keys into a bowl and propped his hand against the wall so he could peel off his socks. He considered taking off the black yoga pants but… he waited because he noticed _it_.

He noticed it when he was taking off his second sock. It skittered across the floor and it was… _horrifying_. Momentarily. It bolted behind a mirror that was propped against the wall. Inigo really meant to hang that mirror, eventually. It had no sentimental value, but it was nice to have one because the bathroom did not. What sort of bathroom did not have a _mirror_? It was the most absurd thing he could think of. He just never found the time to hang it, and he didn’t _want_ to ask Xander to hang it… because he would surely hang it far too high for Inigo to even _use it_. (The idea of Xander having to crouch in front of a mirror was funnier, but the real reason it wasn’t yet hung was because Inigo wasn’t sure where to hang it that was a happy medium for them both.)

 _It can’t possibly be a bug._ Inigo decided. It had been _way too big_ to be a bug. There was just no way, right? A chill ran coursed through his body all the way to his fingertips when he thought about it being some kind of mutant cockroach with giant wings. It… was not that. He crept closer and anxiously put his fingertips on the mirror’s frame. It was not going to be a bug.

He was defenseless, he realized, when he lifted the mirror from its spot. He laid eyes on the creature only briefly. It was pale and flesh colored with black blotches and it dashed off at lightning speeds. Inigo startled and screamed in the most unflattering way possible before he dropped the mirror. It _shattered_. He didn’t even notice, not really, just snapped his head to look in the direction it ran.

 _OH MY GOD IT’S EVIL._ Inigo saw it crawl under the coffee table and he took a step back away from it. “Ah!” He half yelped it and half hissed. It was his own stupid fault for stepping on that glass, but he couldn’t focus on it. Not at all. Just on that _thing_.

“Inigo?! Are you alright?”

Xander’s voice formed clarity in his mind. Inigo’s eyes turned away from the monster that had invaded his home and instead landed on Xander. The shower was still running—he was literally dripping and struggling to wrap a towel around his hips. Inigo would have been more shy about his nudity if not for the fact that he was scared half to death and had a shard of glass in his foot. “There’s some kind of giant _rat_ in here!” He sputtered. “I—My foot—and it ran off and,” He turned his head to the coffee table only to realize one thing: It was gone. “WHERE DID IT GO?”

“Inigo! Calm down and take my hand.”

Take his hand? For what? Moral support? It was a handful of seconds before Inigo realized Xander meant to stabilize him as he stepped out of the pile of glass. The moment he put his hand in Xander’s he helped guide him forward and away from the broken mirror. Heat came off of him in a wave because he had just stepped out of that steaming shower. A moment later Xander bent just enough to scoop Inigo up under his knees.

Being held like that only lasted a few seconds, before he was deposited onto the sofa, but he still had time to be both astounded and humiliated. And… damp. “Ugh. You’re all wet, you know.” Inigo rolled his eyes when he was situated on the couch. He hoped that was enough of a mask to cover up all of his thoughts. He hoped Xander didn’t develop the ability to read his mind, because his heart was fluttering around frantically while he thought about how his soulmate was able to scoop him up and carry him around, how nice it might be to have been pressed into the bed and not just a sofa. Xander sat down on the coffee table and pulled Inigo's foot into his lap to examine the wound… and ended up using the end of the towel he was wearing to clear away the blood that had formed.

“How did you manage to break that mirror?”

“What?” Inigo wouldn’t have honestly been that surprised if he had been drooling, having drifted off to la la land. His thoughts were so far into the gutter that it wasn’t even really Xander’s question that brought him back. It was the spike of pain through the arch of his foot when Xander accidentally brushed his thumb over a shard of glass still caught up under the skin. He didn’t even have time to protest before Xander gently removed the tiny sliver, and then the pain was gone and the side of the towel was once more pressed against his foot to stop any of the minor bleeding. “I—There’s a _rat_!”

It came back in a flash of memories. Dropping the mirror—that was because of the rat. He jolted to look around, and even as he did the monster in question jumped onto the table and approached. Xander reached out and rubbed his thumb over its ears. Upon closer inspection… He realized it was not a rat at all.

“He is not a rat.” Xander chuckled. The sound rang in Inigo’s ears and calmed him momentarily, and maybe that was why he was a little more optimistic when he looked again at the creature. Not a rat at all. It was all wrinkled and bare, but it was a _cat_. A hairless cat. A hairless _kitten_. “His name is Laurence.”

“Laurence?” Inigo asked, and if he laughed it was with mockery and disbelief. He pulled his foot away from Xander’s lap and leaned closer to look at the little thing. It was all too skinny. A stray kitten no doubt. “How did he get here?”

“He was stuck up in that tree beside the window.” Xander answered. “I opened the window and was able to reach him, between the bars.” The barred windows were the worst part of the apartment. It reminded Inigo of a jail cell. For Xander, it actually was one. “I gave him a bath and fed him a bit of canned tuna. I am not able to leave the apartment to set him free, after all.”

While he spoke Inigo watched Xander’s hand. He brushed the back of it along the kitten’s face, rubbed over his whiskers and ears and down his back a few times until the kitten lifted its backside off the table and began to purr obnoxiously loudly. The sound of a small motor boat. Inigo chewed the inside of his cheek.

Xander was lonely lately. Inigo knew he was, because he spent all of his time living in this apartment with nothing to do but read and think about the possibility of going back to jail. It was part of why he worried over Xander. He looked at the ugly purring rat-cat again and then back to Xander, and at the tiny smile on his lips while he poured affection onto the kitten.

“Laurence.” He repeated softly. Xander glanced at him and made a noise halfway between a chuckle and a sigh.

“I needed to call him something.”

“You talked to him? Did you have a nice chat about the weather?” Inigo grinned. “Perhaps if no one comes looking for a lost kitten… Well maybe… Maybe he doesn’t have to go. But he owes me a new mirror.” Xander smiled bright. Inigo was getting pretty good at earning those smiles, again. He wondered if maybe this… was what it felt like to rebuild.

…

For hours Inigo sat curled up in the couch by himself. Well, as by himself as he could have been. Xander had tried to work the concern out of him once, tried to ask what was wrong. Inigo shook his head no and Xander let it go for the time being, like he knew that Inigo just needed time.

Every time Xander ever comforted Inigo he did it perfectly. Once upon a time it was hard to believe that a soulmate could really be perfectly made for you but… it certainly felt that way. But Inigo didn’t want to talk things out this time. He wasn’t sure where to begin talking. He wasn’t sure if things were going to work out, anymore. He thought that they had an uphill climb ahead of them, but that if they worked hard they would make it. Now he was anxious.

All that extra work at the gym hadn’t paid off. Nothing had paid off. He spent so much time teaching those classes, he worked so hard it hurt, but…He startled when he looked up to find Xander holding a mug in front of him. Inigo reached out and took it from him. It was tea, though not high quality by any means. They couldn’t really afford the luxury of nicer tea. This was from a discount grocery store and it was… palatable. Barely.

“You can tell me what is bothering you, Inigo.”

“Noth—I’m fine. Don’t I seem fine?” Inigo asked. He looked down in time to glimpse Xander’s hands moving, and sure enough a moment later they came together to overlay his own around the mug.

Xander looked at him with strain. It was clear he was worried, he was upset, and he didn’t know what to be upset about. It reminded Inigo of the night at that gas station, when he comforted him for the first time. Xander shook his head no in answer to his question. “Your hands are shaking, Inigo.” He spoke very precisely.

If Inigo ran away from Xander he couldn’t follow him. Inigo knew that because he’d considered it once already. He was sure Xander knew that too, but he wondered if he cared? He didn’t really want to run away. He didn’t want to be anywhere but home, and for now… this hell hole of an apartment was home.

Inigo jumped a little when Laurence rubbed up against his ankle. He relaxed a second later, and that was it. The dam broke, and he stared into the tea, anywhere but at Xander. “I might lose my job. The old couple who own the gym got bought out by a chain, and I…”

Xander’s hands slid off of his own, and so Inigo released a tiny sigh. His eyes tingled and he bit his lip, suddenly worried that he was going to be cry. Not just worried, he was quite sure of it, actually. He did everything in his power to keep his voice steady as he explained. “They told me that this new owner is going to lay off employees. They’re going to interview me, a job interview! I… If I get fired, we…”

They could lose everything. If he lost his job that was it—that was their only income. They could lose their apartment; they wouldn’t be able to pay bills. Xander would… well without a home he might have to go back to jail and Inigo would have to move in with his aunts, and…

Inigo flinched away from Xander’s touch, at first. He had reached out and swiped a tear from under his eye. He flinched away at first, but Xander did it again and the second time he didn’t shy from the touch. The second time Inigo leaned into his hand, embraced the comforting touch because he knew he wanted, above all, to be with Xander.

It was a funny goal, wasn’t it? Inigo wanted to be with Xander. They weren’t “dating” yet. They weren’t an item. They hadn’t made up fully for their break up.

“I promise it will be alright.” Xander spoke in a hush, like if he was too loud he would scare Inigo off like a deer. He must have been worried he would run. He had to be. Inigo didn’t want to run, though. He wanted to believe Xander’s promise.

“C-Come sit with me?” Inigo croaked. Xander lifted himself from his seat on the coffee table, and instead sat on the sofa. Inigo shifted to set down the tea, and then he curled into him. They weren’t in a relationship. Not really. Inigo knew that. He was supposed to take his time forgiving Xander, and to figure out what his heart wanted. Was it so wrong that his heart just wanted Xander? He wanted everything else to vanish. No more court, no more apartment. Just him and the man who had hooked his chin over his head and was rubbing circles into the back of his shirt. Just them, forever.

He glanced to the side when he noticed Laurence clawing his way up the side of the couch. For a moment he smiled, just a tiny halfhearted thing. Maybe just him and Xander and the ugly rat-kitten. Laurence could come too.

…

Maribelle had been at their apartment for a while. She still hated it. Inigo had expected her to hate the cat, too, but when she saw that it was hairless she immediately took to it because it would not shed on her clothes. Not to mention she had a soft spot for animals, just like all of her children.

The court case was getting serious. Xander’s only opportunity to leave the house was when he had court and when he had to visit the parole officer, and he did not like either. Still… part of Inigo thought it was good for him. While they sat in the back of a cab he would watch Xander stare out the window and think that someday soon he would not be trapped in their apartment. Someday soon he would be free.

“The final court date will be on the first of August.” Maribelle said, and her voice was calm but confident. She has always been confident, on the outside. Inigo had only ever seen her that way. Her confidence must have been contagious, though, because it seemed to make Xander look confident too.

Inigo was not confident. Inigo was nervous. Nervous enough that when his aunt and Xander discussed their plans, he hardly… listened. How could he? He was trapped in a swirl of anxiety. The last court date was the final trial. The ‘guilty’ or ‘not guilty’. It was a chance for Xander to be taken away from him, a chance for him to go to jail for years and years and… Inigo didn’t want to lose him again. He’d done that once, and he’d hated it _then_.

He was startled when the buzzer rang. More than startled, he made an embarrassing yelp and covered his mouth. “I—ha,” He breathed out a sigh and pushed himself up to his feet. “Is that your cab?” He asked.

Maribelle shook her head no. “I did not call for a cab. Your older brother is picking me up, today. He took the evening off from the hospital.”

 _Brady_.

Inigo rarely got to see Brady and he was excited to hear that he was there. He rushed to the buzzer and pressed the button to let him into the building. Brady worked so hard and was always so busy helping people he often forgot to take breaks. He was basically Inigo’s brother but he only saw him once or twice a year, excluding the now and then if he would get hurt or sick. The last time he saw him was at the performance in Cyrkensia.

Xander and Maribelle were hardly distracted by Inigo’s excitement. Maribelle saw her son much more often than Inigo did, and Xander… well he didn’t care, probably. Inigo had never introduced them. Inigo didn’t think they had even seen each other, not really… but then he remembered that performance.

He could remember vividly being back stage with Brady. He could remember being swept up in a hug that was actually fairly remarkably, considering the lack of arm strength Brady had, and he could remember seeing what he _thought_ was Xander, walking away.

His eyes landed on Xander and he wondered again if he had gone to the performance. How had he known that Inigo was going to perform? How would he have found the time?

The knock at the door prompted a few things. Maribelle stood up and reached for her purse (were they leaving so soon?) and Xander glanced at the door. Inigo opened it and he lit up. “Long time no see!” He winked, and Brady stepped forward to hug him. There was no spinning him around, this time, but there was his brother’s voice in his ear.

“This place is uglier than my mug.” Brady joked. Maribelle scoffed at him. Inigo grinned.

“I think it’s cozy.”

“Well ya could fit the whole damn thing in a car, so ya ain’t wrong.”

“Language!” Maribelle groaned. “And both of you, where are your manners? Introduce your brother to Mister Vigarde, Inigo.”

Xander looked at Brady like he had seen a ghost. It was… strange. Brady laughed, nervously no doubt. “I ain’t as scary as I look.” He said, but Inigo didn’t think he looked scary at all. He was just a guy wearing scrubs. Brady had never been scary, not really. “Name’s Brady. Inigo an’ Owain’s big brother. I’ve heard a lot about ya.”

Xander nodded his head. He stood up and he reached out to shake Brady’s hand. When he did, Inigo thought he saw a hint of a smile on Xander’s lips. It was surprising, considering the subject matter they had only just been discussing had been so stressful. It seemed genuine enough, though, and Xander said “I am Xander. I have heard some things about you as well, although I wish we could have met under different circumstances.”

“Nah, circumstances don’t matter, character does.” Brady said. Inigo was _overwhelmed_ with relief when he said that. Maribelle had come into meeting Xander by passing judgement on him… he was glad that Brady hadn’t done the same.

“Brady, darling, we have to go. I need to drop some paperwork off now that everything is signed and prepared for the trial.” Maribelle said, confident as ever. She put a trained smile on her face when she said “Mister Vigarde, I believe we stand a fair chance. Get some rest and do your best to be healthy and ready on the day of the trial.”

They left. When they left Inigo closed the door behind them, locked it. It was habit before they lived in such a scary part of town but… even more so now. He turned and rested his back against the door. Xander walked away from him, he disappeared into the kitchen area. Inigo watched him walk, and he chewed his lip. Why hadn’t he asked about this sooner? Now that he remembered it, it was bothering him.

“Were you in Cyrkensia, that day?”

Xander came back with two bottles of water. Inigo hadn’t asked for one, and he didn’t particularly want one, but he took it anyway if only because the gesture had been thoughtful. He rolled in his lips while he waited for Xander’s response. It came out as a breath of a sigh. “What day is that?”

“The day of my first performance. Don’t play dumb with me, you know what day.” Inigo muttered. “I thought I saw you walking away. What made you come back stage—why did you leave?”

Xander twisted the cap off of the bottle of water he had in his hands, but he didn’t drink from it. He just twisted the lid right back into place. “I came back stage because I… well I suppose I wanted to congratulate you.” He said. “Maybe I wanted to apologize. I nearly lost my nerve, that night, I nearly told you everything that was happening with my father. It was the night I left my family.”

Inigo could remember that. He could remember the look on Niles’ face when he got the phone call. He could remember the look of concern on Owain’s face when Niles left without him. He rocked on his heels. “But..?”

“But…You were with your brother, and I didn’t know who he was at the time. It would have been rude to interrupt the two of you, when you were clearly—“

“Wait,” Inigo breathed out. He dipped his head and he asked “What do you mean you didn’t know who he was? Who did you _think_ he was?”

“He could have been anyone.” Xander answered. Inigo closed his mouth, both because Xander’s tone was sharp and because he understood, then, what Xander was saying. That day in the theatre when Brady picked Inigo up and danced them around in a circle Xander didn’t see two brothers. He just saw his soulmate in the arms of another man. There was silence before Xander turned to go pick up the most recent book he had been reading. He crossed the room to sit on the side of the bed.

“You thought I got over you that fast?” Inigo asked. “I wish you had talked to me—I would have listened.”

“I know you would have.” Xander answered. “But it was for the best that I was alone.”

Inigo didn’t think that was true. He didn’t think it was fair that Xander genuinely believed that Inigo had moved on to date someone else. He didn’t think it was fair that Xander went through all of this alone. He didn’t like it.

(He didn’t like any of this scandal from hell.)

…

 It was two weeks later when Inigo had his interview with the new gym owners. He came home in a rush afterwards, pushing his way through the door and not even getting mad when he nearly tripped over Laurence (who turned out to be something of a menace and tore a hole in the carpet near the front door. Their security deposit would not be coming back to them, needless to say.)

“Xander,” He began, but he was reading. He spent a lot of his free time reading, considering he had an abundance of it when he wasn’t meeting with Maribelle. Inigo put a smile on his lips and bent over at the waist until he was at eye level with his soulmate. “I had my interview just now. It went very well. I think I’m going to keep my job, and I…”

“Hm.” Xander hummed an acknowledgement but he didn’t even look up from his book. Inigo’s excitement melted into uncertainty. He didn’t like feeling like he was a burden, but in that moment he did. He closed his mouth and walked away from Xander, to flop down onto the bed. It was a nice bed. _His bed_. It was Inigo’s bed, but he usually allowed Xander to sleep in it. Inigo slept on the couch. Xander was too tall to sleep on the couch, and… Inigo could manage.

“So…” Inigo turned his head. It wasn’t as if there was a room blocking him from seeing Xander in their awful studio, and so he just shrugged from his spot. He wrapped his arms around the pillow and laid on his belly with his cheek squished, but he spoke anyway and it made his voice sound more awkward than normal. “You’re mad at me..?”

Xander rolled his eyes. Inigo watched him do it, an action that he wasn’t familiar with seeing on his face. “What could you have possibly done to anger me, Inigo?” He asked with exasperation. That was a great question. Inigo had no idea what he had done wrong, which was exactly why he was concerned.

Laurence jumped up to lay on top of Xander’s lap. The moment he did Xander set aside the book and began to rub his hand along the cat’s back. Inigo was still a little weirded out by the lack of fur, but… he tried to warm up to him since Xander seemed to like him so much. “You just seem a hair bothered, is all.” Inigo said it halfway into the pillow, and he wasn’t sure if it was worth arguing with him. He had never had a ‘fight’ with Xander before. Outside of that day in the office building, but… they weren’t really on good terms then anyway.

“I feel very…useless.” Xander said, after a moment. Inigo pushed himself up to his elbows on the bed.

“Useless?”

“Every day I sit here and I do nothing. I am not working, I am not helping, I am not providing. I serve no purpose at all except to bring you stress, and I…”

Xanders words came to an abrupt stop. It was likely because Inigo was having none of this conversation. He had been quick to leave behind the comfort of the bed to walk in front of the sofa, in front of the man who was calling himself useless.

Xander was a gemstone. He was sparkling and genuine and refined and so it was hard for Inigo to hear him talk so poorly about himself. How dare he think he was anything less than perfect? Inigo thought he was perfect. _Inigo_ was in love with him. Again. Still. Always.

He laid his fingertip over Xander’s mouth, and it was for that reason that Xander stopped. Abruptly. His eyes were shy. He looked bashful at Inigo. He looked ashamed of himself for losing his composure, but Inigo did not mind. It was unfair for him to wear a mask of indifference all the time, wasn’t it?

“We are working together, Xander.” Inigo promised. It was what he believed, at least. He believed that he was working with Xander, that they were sorting this mess out _together_. Xander reached up and wrapped his palm around Inigo’s wrist. He tugged gently to lower it.

“It feels more like you are working for me, Inigo. You’ve given up so much.” He took a deep breath through his nose. Slow, like he was counting the seconds. When he exhaled, he exhaled through his nose as well, calm and steadying. “You did nothing wrong, Inigo. Thank you for being so perceptive to what was really bothering me.”

“Well, we all act like children now and then.” Inigo shrugged his shoulders. Xander’s grip on his wrist tightened. Inigo had nearly forgotten that he had a hold of him, until that moment. Briefly he entertained the idea that he might use it to pull him down. Into his lap, into a kiss. Instead Xander let go of his wrist, and Inigo mourned the loss of a great daydream.

“On the contrary, I believe I may be having a midlife crisis.”

“Midlife…” Inigo repeated the word slow. “You’re… You’re not having a midlife anything, Xander, you’re twenty-seven.”

“Yes,” Xander argued. “I think I am. It would explain—!”

“Xander!” Inigo laughed, but it was in disbelief. “You are not going to die at the ripe age of 54.”

“Well, I should hope not.” Xander grinned. A grin. A big wide grin. Inigo’s heart melted. His knees buckled. He slumped forward. Laurence made a hasty escape from Xander’s lap just before Inigo crawled forward to occupy it.

 Xander slipped his hands onto Inigo’s hips. His hands were warm through the cotton of his shirt, and they steadied him where he straddled him. “I’ve worked very hard to help you clear your name, Xander. I’ll sprout grey hairs if you try to die on me now.”

Xander slid one hand up the length of Inigo’s side before he carded it through his hair, obviously still as bright and pink as ever. He smiled again, made Inigo melt into him again, and he said “I think you would look charming with grey hair.”

“I’m your soulmate. You’re meant to love me the way I am.” Inigo muttered. Xander was silenced by the comment. His cheeks dusted a shade of red blush that Inigo _loved_ , he truly loved. Xander’s blush was sweet and innocent and Inigo… he was sick of playing the waiting game. “Will you be my boyfriend again, Xander? I’m sorry, if this is… this is poor timing, isn’t it?”

“Inigo,” Xander didn’t ask to be kissed, but Inigo leaned closer and did it anyway. He had to, right? Because part of him was scared. Part of him was nervous that Xander would tell him no, that he would ask him to stay distant until the court case was over and settled. But he didn’t say no. He leaned into Inigo’s kiss and he wrapped his arms tight around his middle until Inigo was nearly crushed by his embrace. He kissed him until Inigo thought he was lying in the snow in December, under his weight and his warmth and being told he was loved for the very first time.

“ _I love you so much.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear this was the hardest chapter for me to write because there was so much time to cover and not very many relevant scenes. But please welcome Laurence the Sphinx cat into ur lives.
> 
> i know this was short by comparison to other chapters whoopsie daisy but good news only 2 chapters lefttt


	11. 11. August

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The month they promised to smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as per usual there are probably typos but i wanted to finish this up so here u have it: a double update and the end of My Kingdom Come.

_August_

_“We, the jury, find Xander Vigarde innocent of…”_

Inigo could not remember what the representative of the jury said after that. He could not remember because he had been too excited, too overwhelmingly happy. Inigo didn’t sit up front with Xander during the trial. He wasn’t allowed to, and he had never been allowed to. Part of him had been tempted not to even sit in for the trial. He was _nervous_. He only did it because he wanted to be strong and to be supportive.

Xander was found innocent and Maribelle looked more relieved than Inigo had expected. He wondered how much of her confidence had been a mask to encourage them? He loved her very much. His aunt had worked tirelessly for them, poured her time into this case because she knew how important Xander was to Inigo… He would never be able to thank her properly.

As soon as the case was dismissed and the gavel had landed Inigo forgot how nervous he was. It was like months of built up stress wiped away. He pushed his way through the small crowd of viewers so that he could get up to Xander. He looked _so good_. He always looked good dressed in suits like that, but he looked especially good in that moment because the crease of worry he had been sporting all summer between his eyes was lessened.

“You did it!” Inigo said, and he came to a stop standing in front of Xander. He expected Maribelle and Xander to be their normal selves, he supposed. Xander was always professional in front of Inigo’s aunt. He supposed he shouldn’t have expected anything to be normal in that day, in that moment, because even Xander seemed to be washed over with euphoria and he leaned down to kiss Inigo.

Not even just a peck! He cupped his hands on either side of his face and pressed his lips hard enough against Inigo’s that it hurt just a hair—but Inigo could feel him smile on his lips and it was such a nice feeling that he didn’t remember that it hurt at all. Right in front of his aunt, and Xander kissed him like that and then let Inigo hug him tight.

When Inigo glanced at his aunt he expected to be scolded about indecent displays but she didn’t scold either of them. She covered her mouth with a dainty, gloved hand and she giggled. She giggled and Xander stepped away from Inigo to shake her hand, and she took his in hers with a bright smile. “You’re a free man, Mister Vigarde. What will you do with yourself first?”

“Applying for jobs, I imagine.” Xander answered. Inigo knew it would be difficult to get a job for Xander, yet. Even though he was found innocent, employers may be wary of him after such a long trial. That said… he was smart, and he was the most hardworking man Inigo could imagine, and he was sure that Xander would find work soon enough. “However, first… I was considering going out for tea.”

Xander reached out blindly and his hand bumped into Inigo’s. Inigo glanced down and then curled their fingers together. Xander wanted to go out for tea… and Inigo wanted to go with him. To take him out on a date for the first time in months. They didn’t have much in the way of extra income, but… Inigo would find a way to make it work, even if he had to pass up buying things to take to work for lunch to balance it out.

“Would you like to join us?” Xander asked, and Maribelle shook her head no.

“Oh I absolutely cannot. I’ve promised Lissa to go shopping this afternoon if all went well. After all, we do have a birthday coming up.” She gestured at Inigo before she added “Moreover, I would hate to intrude on your celebratory date. Have fun, boys. I’ve already sent off an email to the parole office. If you head straight there they will be able to remove that wretched device from your ankle, and then you will be free to go wherever you please.”

Inigo wrapped his aunt up in a hug and kissed her cheek when she said that. Mostly because he worried she planned to leave without letting him say a proper goodbye. He loved her so much. Since he was just a little boy Maribelle had played such a huge role in his life. She arranged for his adoption and handled everything after Olivia passed away. She managed to obtain most of her belongings for Inigo, despite the fact that Olivia had not written out a will yet. She bought the chain Inigo wore on his neck for years to wear his mother’s ring, and when he was so excited it fit on his finger she promised him that if it ever needed to be sized so he could continue to wear it she would have that arranged. (It had never needed sized, but the gesture alone was something Inigo would always cherish.)

Maribelle was one of his mothers. She smelled like rosewater and make up when he held her close like that, and he felt her arms wrap around his back and her hands rest just below his shoulder blades. She leaned her head against his shoulder and breathed out a quiet sigh.

When Inigo was a child he as much clingier. To both Maribelle and Lissa. Still, as an adult, he did not think he would ever outgrow hugging them. “I love you, Auntie.” He took a step back from her and she looked up at him with a fondness in her eyes he knew was reserved special for her family and loved ones. She combed her finger through his hair and then she backed up and tugged a kerchief from her pocket to dab at her eyes.

“You’re going to make me cry.” She said in a broken voice. Inigo smiled at her, but the words she said made his own eyes sting with tears. Probably happy tears—or relieved. Certainly not sad by any means. “Well get a move on boys. You must get downtown before the parole office closes or you won’t be able to remove the device today. You’re free to go. I’ll collect any documents you need to sign and get them to you later on.”

“Thank you, Maribelle.” Xander said to her, and Inigo knew he meant it. He knew Xander was the sort of person who was professional. He knew Maribelle was too. He curled his hand back up in Xander’s fingers and he pulled him outside, out of the court room and out of the building. It was hot out, muggy but not too sunny (for it was rarely sunny in Nohr) and Inigo tugged Xander down the stairs.

“Shall we take a bus?” He asked (and he knew the answer was no) and Xander shook his head and jogged a few steps away from the courthouse, away from the metro stop, and in the direction of downtown Nohr.

“I think I would rather take a walk with you.” Xander said. Smooth as silk from his lips, and Inigo didn’t mind walking at all. He didn’t mind indulging Xander and letting him enjoy the fresh air for a while. He had been trapped all summer!

Inigo could remember all the months of stress that led to this moment. He could remember their first heated kisses being interrupted by business calls from Xander’s father. He could remember Xander dismissing himself from family activities to deal with conference calls and meetings. He could remember the day he turned off his cell phone and spent his whole day with Inigo. He could also remember the day after that, when he spent his whole day making up for his absence. He could remember Xander getting down on his knees and crying into Inigo’s shirt the day he found him in that abandoned building and… Now it was over.

Xander was free.

…

Inigo’s birthday was a week later. He had been nervous about whether or not Xander would be with him, but now… everything was looking up. Their lives hadn’t really changed yet. Inigo was still working full time, and Xander had yet to find a job (and a week was an unrealistically short amount of time to find one anyway) but it just felt better. While they ate the meals they could make with their limited grocery budget sitting at their coffee table they had more to talk about, though. They were no longer limited. They could talk about Xander’s job search, they could talk about their plans. They could talk about getting back in touch with Xander’s siblings.

The future was no longer off limits.

Inigo wore jackets all year around but that day was particularly warm. He had his jacket tied around his hips instead. Even Xander must have been warm, because he had folded the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. Inigo _liked it_ when he did that. Xander looked great in a suit and tie but he looked even better with the first couple of buttons undone and the sleeves pushed up.

The path they walked was marked with flowers and also with headstones. Inigo knew it was something of an awkward place to visit on his birthday, but… he came to see his mother every year. This was just the first year he was bringing someone with him that he had never introduced, before. The closer they got to the crest of the hill the more Inigo twisted the ring on his finger.

Her grave was marked with a flat marble headstone, and engraved with a pearly white dove. Even the cemetery in Ylisse is bright and full of sunshine and flowers, though, so it hardly seemed like he was standing among the dead. That was part of why he loved this place. It was a place for mourning but… it was a place where people seemed happy, too. It was melancholy.

“I’m about to make a fool of myself in front of you.” Inigo said, but he found his resolve. He stopped spinning his ring and instead folded his hands behind his back, as if that would make him look more confident. “I promised you that I would show you my mother’s dance if you got that silly earring, and I never found the time. But I dance for her here every year, and I thought… maybe I could show you now.”

His cheeks felt hot before Xander looked at him with that sort of confusion but… he blushes twice as hard when Xander asks “You dance at her grave?”

“Does it sound so awful?” Inigo asked, and he tried to smile with confidence through the embarrassment. Embarrassment that Xander might think him rude for dancing there, embarrassment that he would think the dance was awkward… embarrassment just to have judgmental eyes on him. “Mm… I know you never had the pleasure to meet my beautiful mother but… she would have much preferred I dance at her grave than cry.”

Xander’s confusion shifted into something more understanding. Inigo took a breath and a step back and his starting stance.

He danced.

Since the day that Azura sang to him he could remember his mother’s dance more vividly than ever. While he was at the gym he sometimes practiced it in his time alone. He knew there was something true to what she said, that there was magic and power to it. He knew that because any time someone accidentally saw his dance he felt weaker, but when he danced alone he was fine. He still didn’t know if there was a purpose to it, if there ever would be or ever had been, but he knew that he could trust Xander with this dance.

When they met Inigo danced that dance. He danced that night because he was alone and bored and worried he would never find love. His dance this time was more inspired. His dance was in celebration of his beautiful mother, and the gift of life she gave him. A life that he had made some questionable decisions with but… he was sure that she had been there all along to help guide him down the right path.

The ”magic” did it’s work. Inigo’s body felt weaker and a glance at Xander’s face told him that the other man was in some amount of awe. Probably not just because Inigo was good at swinging his hips in time with an imaginary beat. Probably because his body was responding to the dance. Sure enough, like with Azura, he was exhausted. His knees buckled and he thought was going to fall, but before he did Xander took a few steps closer to steady him on his feet. Inigo laughed, and blushed, and looked away.

“It’s hot today, I suppose.” He said, because he didn’t want to just _say_ he thought magic was involved. It only took a second for Inigo to regain his footing, and Xander easily shifted their hands until they took that familiar stance that Inigo loved so much. The stance from every weekend, from the lessons they no longer took, from the music box on his mother’s mantle. He let his weight slump a little into Xander’s, but Xander held him up without trouble and they swayed together there, for a moment.

“I can’t say I’ve ever danced on someone’s grave before.” Xander admitted. Inigo smiled.

“There is a first time for everything, they say.”

…

Inigo always visited his mother on his birthday but beyond that he rarely had plans. It was a Monday and his aunts had a party with them at their home the evening before. It was somewhat strange. Normally on his birthdays Inigo wished for something. Possessions, love, whatever. This year he was less financially stable than he had ever been in his whole life, but… he was happy.

His fingers were twisted up in Xander’s hand. They spent the morning in Ylisse, but with nothing else to really do there they returned to Nohr. They couldn’t really afford to do anything lavish for Inigo’s birthday but… that was alright. He knew that Elise would have made a scene if she knew about it, but he had been hesitant to tell her either. Xander had only just barely made up with Corrin and Elise, and he still had work to do with his other siblings. It would be uncomfortable for Xander to attend a party with them, Inigo was sure.

They decided to walk through downtown. There were plenty of things to do that didn’t cost money. Sights to see, a museum, people watching… but instead of any of those things, Xander pulled him to a stop and guided him into a building that Inigo had only been inside of once before.

It was the little cupcake bakery up the street from the tattoo parlor. Inigo loved the little store, it was so cute with its tables and chairs and cupcakes that looked like they were meant for a designer or movie star. Still… even as much as he loved the store, he shook his head no the moment they entered and a hush came over him. “I said no gifts, Xander. We can’t afford it.”

“One cupcake on your birthday won’t break the budget, Inigo.” Xander promised. He insisted, even, and gently nudged Inigo towards the bakery display case. He swallowed a lump in his throat. One cupcake wouldn’t hurt, but it was _a waste_. Then again, he supposed, if he shared it with Xander it would be a sweet treat for them both.

Inigo left that building with a chocolate cupcake with pink, strawberry icing. For what it was worth, it was a _very_ good cupcake, even if the icing was piled high. He fell back into step beside Xander and offered him a bite. “Try it?” He asked.

Xander glanced at the cupcake, shook his head no, but he formed a tiny smile when he looked at Inigo’s face. He reached over and swiped away a bit of icing from Inigo’s chin with his thumb… and Inigo blushed and rolled his eyes. “They put too much icing on it.”

“You’re very cute, Inigo.” Xander assured him, although Inigo wasn’t really convinced. “You should have it. It is for your birthday. Would you like to walk through the woods, with me?”

Inigo knew that Xander had kind of been walking towards the big city park. The trails that led through the woods were meant to be walked, marked with facts about nature and a clear path. He nodded his head yes. He couldn’t think of a real reason _not_ to go on a walk, that was to say. The weather was nice, for it. Back in Nohr it wasn’t even as hot as it was in Ylisse that day.

The trees were all bright and green and light filters down through them in a way that could be the setting for a fantasy novel or perhaps a good horror movie if they used the right filters. Not that it was at all scary. The trail they chose was very familiar to Inigo. It was where he used to sneak off to, to dance, when he was living with Owain. Or at least, the clearing was. The trail itself was something of a menace to try and dance on, with twigs and rocks.

“I was hired by an accounting firm yesterday.”

Inigo dropped the remainder of the cupcake that was left in his hands. He stopped moving too, to stare at Xander. How could that have happened? Was he serious? “What? You—Really? So quickly?” What accounting firm was putting that much faith into a man who was involved with a financial scandal? It seemed too good to be true.

Xander looked down at the pink icing splattered on the ground and he chuckled to himself. Inigo had stopped, but Xander continued to walk and so Inigo took a couple big steps to keep up with him. “The owner put in a good word, for me.”

“The owner…” It took Inigo a good few seconds to understand. The owner of an accounting firm put in a good word for Xander… but then he gasped and whacked Xander in his arm (a literally uncontrolled impulse for how excited he was). The result actually hurt Inigo more than Xander, and he flicked his hand to chase away the hint of pain that came with that action. “Leo? You—You made up with Leo? That’s incredible news!” The greatest news that Inigo had heard all day. It was a far better birthday gift than a cupcake, knowing that Xander would finally be able to work again. He hated seeing Xander look so stir crazy.

This time when Inigo stopped he pulled Xander’s hand with him, and it forced Xander to quit walking as well, lest he drag him across the trail. It seemed fair anyway. They had made it to the clearing in the trail. He tugged down hard on Xander’s shirt collar until the taller man finally _humored him_ and leand down close enough that Inigo could reach his lips. That was, if Inigo stood up on his tip toes (which he did, shamelessly). He planted a thrilled smooch on Xander’s lips, in fact, and he pulled out of that kiss with a grin and he must have channeled Elise because he was nearly bouncing in Xander’s embrace he was _so happy_.

“Do you even know anything about accounting?” The question bubbled up out of his mouth and he thought it was silly. He must have known _something_ about accounting to have gotten into such a high position in his father’s company but… he still asked anyway.

Xander nodded his head yes, ad he slid his hand down to the small of Inigo’s back. He used that hand to guide him off of the trail, and into the clearing. It made Inigo check over his shoulder to see if anyone was behind them, trying to get past, but… there wasn’t. It didn’t matter, not really, and so he shrugged it off and focused on Xander’s great news. “Yes,” Xander said, “I have a degree in account, as well as in management. Although I am not particularly looking to move into management in Leo’s company.”

Once they were a ways off from the trail itself Xander trailed his fingertips down Inigo’s cheek, with one hand. The action sent a shudder through him. “Results won’t be instantaneous, of course,” Xander said, “But the job position is mine. The day of my first check will be the last day you eat anything prepared in a microwave again.”

Inigo laughed. Honestly he did, because it wasn’t as if microwaves were incubators from hell. They were effective and sometimes it was easiest to make canned food and heat it up there. Still, he appreciated the comment. Xander probably was not as accustomed to eating junk as Inigo had been. He hadn’t exactly been wealthy when he was living with Owain. “We have bigger problems than our dietary needs, love,” He hummed. “Though I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Inigo,” Xander said, “I need to ask you something.” He was staring fairly intently at Inigo. It wasn’t the first time it had ever happened but it made him nervous. He wondered if he had something on his face, more icing perhaps, or if Xander was just… focused. He opened his mouth to ask what it was, but he was cut off by Xander and so he closed his mouth instead to listen. “Before I do, I need you to promise me something.”

“I… promise you what, Xander?”

“Promise me that you will let me buy you cupcakes. Or jackets, or bring you coffee on my way home from work, or take you out for tea. Promise me that you will let me spoil you, now, because you never deserved to suffer through this with me.”

Inigo held his breath while he listened. He didn’t necessarily agree with that. Xander never deserved to suffer _alone_ , and Inigo was the best suited to helping him cope. They were meant for each other, after all.

“I will never be as wealthy of a man as I once was, and perhaps that is for the best, but I promise you that very soon you will never want for anything.” Xander looked like he was making a promise, not Inigo. Inigo didn’t feel like he had been asked to make a promise he felt like he was… selfish.

“I… this is… do I ask for very much? I don’t need to be spoiled. I’m not so selfish, am I..?” He worried. He really worried! He had spent his whole relationship with Xander trying his hardest to love him for who he was, and not care about if they were rich or poor or neither.

Xander smiled, halfheartedly. “Not at all. You forget to be selfish, Inigo. You are so busy giving everything you have to everyone else. You insist that others be selfish, but you fail to take your own advice… and so I will take it upon myself to be selfish for you, and make sure that you never give up on the things you truly want.”

Inigo was pretty sure Xander meant the ballet but… he found it in him to smile. He gave up his chance to dance on stage _once_. He was young (as was Xander) and he had time to try again. Someday, that was. In the meantime he nodded his head and said “Alright. I promise. Within reason, I suppose.”

He hesitated when Xander leaned down and pressed a kiss to the center of his forehead. His eyes slid closed and they stayed that way while he thought about how precious to him his soulmate was, how stupidly selfless Xander was for worrying so much about him, and how saddening it was for his lips to pull away.

The wind picked up for a moment, a comfortable summer breeze, and Inigo sighed… and then he opened his mouth and his eyes. “Oh, wait, Xander, didn’t you say you had a question…Oh. I… Oh.” He was kneeling. Xander, that was. While Inigo had been standing there like an idiot enjoying a breeze Xander had lowered himself to one knee and… when he caught Inigo looking down at him he reached out and held Inigo’s left hand with his own. (That was the _only_ hand he could take, because Inigo was fast enough to cover his face with his right hand in an effort to smother the hideous red blush that had developed in lieu of recent events.) “I… you’re… right, this is…”

“Within reason,” Xander agreed. Agreed? Inigo hardly knew if he was saying that in agreement or just to torment him further. “I promise only to spoil you the way a good husband should. That is, if you will have me.”

“This is—ha!” an embarrassed yelp of a laugh tore out of Inigo’s throat before he could stop it. “Xander! You’ve brought me to the spot where we met. You’re on your knee—it’s my _birthday_. This is all very, very cliché!”

Inigo’s face split into a stupid, shy grin when Xander nodded his head and _smirked_ at him. “Mm, yes, it is,” Xander answered. “You love all things that are cliché, if I recall.”

Yes. He did. He loved watching cliché movies with scenes _remarkably_ similar to this. He loved traditional weddings and proposals the way that his mother did, and he loved Xander for knowing that about him and embracing it. He nodded his head. “Well, yes, I am a man who loves the classics…”

“And so?” Xander asked. He asked it as if it were a question, as if it were a real possibility that he might say anything but yes and fall into his arms to kiss him.

And so Inigo grinned at him and nodded his head _again_. “And so I will marry you. Now get off your knee before someone sees you—this is humiliating! I… what is that?”

He slid it onto his finger and it fit _perfectly_. A gross sort of perfect. It fit flush against his mother’s ring on his hand, it complimented it even in color, and Xander said to him “It is a ring. Most proposals call for them.”

He pushed himself up to his feet after that, but Inigo was far too busy pulling his hand close to his face to admire the stones. It was a band, with stones embedded all around it. It was beautiful, but more importantly it looked _real_ , and he sputtered. “We don’t—we don’t have money. We can’t even afford to buy two cupcakes. How did you afford—are those _diamonds?”_

“Yes,” Xander said, and he dusted off dirt from his pant legs. “And blue opal.”

 _Opal_. It was _just like_ his mother’s ring. It was very touching, it was so thoughtful that Xander thought not to replace it, but to compliment it, and Inigo loved him for it he really did but… “I didn’t even know opals _came_ in blue. This is too much—this is… how did this happen? Our only income has been mine, there is no way you could have bought this unless you…”

Inigo stopped talking. He looked away from the ring on his finger and instead looked at his new _fiancé_ , at how close he was standing and at his beautiful eyes and he let his thoughts catch up with his mouth. Once upon a time he sat on the floor playing dress up with Forrest. Once upon a time Forrest _had asked him_ his ring size, and he certainly found out. That was so long in the past, by now, and Inigo swallowed hard but it didn’t take away the ache in his chest. “You bought this before we broke up…”

“Do you like it?”

Was he crazy? Of course he liked it, but he could have cared less what it looked like by then. By then he was thinking about how Xander had loved him for so long. He loved him genuinely enough to let a child manipulate Inigo into getting his ring size. He loved him enough that he had a ring this whole time. When had he bought it?

He thought about the night they broke up, and how Xander had promised him it would be the most romantic date of his life for the days leading up to it, before he had been forced to break ties with Inigo. Xander had been waiting half a year to propose to him, hadn’t he? Inigo couldn’t help it when he cried. His face scrunched up with his tears but he nodded his head and threw his arms around Xander’s neck. Xander chuckled low in his throat and his hands were warm when they rubbed along the small of Inigo’s back. “I love it, Xander. I love you.” He whined.

He loved it even more, knowing how long Xander had waited for this. It reminded him that Xander loved him. He _always loved him_. He never wanted to break up, he never wanted Inigo to suffer through hell.

Xander straightened up his back and Inigo let out a watery laugh because his toes lifted off the ground just slightly in the process. Xander’s arms were wrapped tight around his middle, though, and in the breezy forest on Inigo’s birthday, they swayed like that while Xander peppered kisses against his temple and while Inigo cried.

…

A week passed fast from the day Xander proposed. He began working towards the end of that week. It was comfortable. Inigo still went to work every day, of course, but when he came home Xander was not there—would not be there for another half hour or so. Xander seemed more in his element working. Inigo couldn’t say he thought that accounting was riveting by any means, but Xander enjoyed work, he enjoyed the distraction and the feeling of contribution… and so Inigo was happy for him.

A week passed and they only had to struggle through one more pay period with hardly any money to scrape by, but… it just happened to be a particularly _horrible_ pay period. Inigo had taken a day off for his birthday party with his aunts (a stupid choice, he realized now, and he felt selfish) and he’d been sent home early one day when they closed for a city-wide event…

The coffee table was their home base while they figured out financial issues, it always was. The two of them were sitting in front of it, sorting through the stack of bills. “Maybe we can push something off for a couple of weeks..?” Inigo suggested. Of course, he couldn’t be sure _what_ to push back. It seemed like there were not any options.

Maybe the electricity..? Inigo breathed out a sigh of relief when the fan rotated in his direction. For about four seconds he had sweet relief from the heat before it turned and made its way back towards Xander. Inigo watched it push air through his hair. No, it could not be the electricity. They would have died if it was cut off; as it was they already weren’t running the air conditioner. It was too expensive. They were surviving what Inigo considered to be the hottest month of his life with one oscillating fan and by spending their time sitting in as few clothes as possible.

“Well we can’t very well put off the rent,” Xander spoke up, hesitant to share bad news. “We promised to pay that in full, along with the other half of last month’s.”

Inigo groaned and flopped forward over the table. The wood was cool, but the bills stuck to his skin. He didn’t even mind. He just laid down and whined while he thought about how they could survive. They couldn’t put off the electricity or the rent, but they needed the water. They hadn’t paid the gas bill in months…

He hesitated in his thoughts. The bouncing light coming off the ceiling fan fixture above them bounced off of the diamonds in Inigo’s ring. He sat back up, peeling a couple of bills off of his face when he did, and he pulled it close to his face to inspect it.

“We need to pawn this ring.”

He blurted the words out before he could really think better of them, but he knew it was a bad thing to say the second that Xander said “What?!” He shook his head no, and he must have thought his voice was strong when he said “Absolutely not. I only just gave it to you!” His voice wasn’t that strong. Just upset.

“I know, I know, and I love it but… well you can’t argue that it wouldn’t solve our problems…” Inigo hated the way Xander was looking at him. He hated suggesting something he didn’t like. “…And we’ll get it back! Once you start getting checks we’ll be just fine.”

Xander pinched the bridge of his nose with his finger and thumb and he breathed out a sigh so heavy it reminded Inigo of when he would have to take business calls from his father. “Please, consider this _carefully._ We may not be able to get that ring back for a long while Inigo, possibly years. We won’t afford it all at once.” Xander reached out and took Inigo’s hand. He brushed his thumb over Inigo’s finger, over the ring. “I take great pride in your wearing this. I’ve waited a long time for this.”

“I can’t believe you held onto this for so long.” Inigo admitted. He looked at the ring when Xander fiddled with it. It did compliment his mother’s opal perfectly. It was beautiful and the opals were the color of the morning glories that bloomed down Inigo’s back. He sighed and shifted his fingers so they could lace together through Xander’s.

“This ring carried me through our time apart, Inigo. Every day I was alone I hoped that a day might come when I would see you wear this ring. I am… not happy about this.”

Inigo nodded his head at the comment but he wasn’t really agreeing or disagreeing with anything. He felt horrible. He felt like he was taking away something important from Xander by implying they should pawn the ring. Not only that, but… He felt like he was breaking the promise he had only just made with Xander, he felt like he was taking away his chance to spoil him.

…And it was a shame, too, because Inigo _wanted_ to be selfish on this matter. He loved that ring. Not for its value (although he was sure if Xander purchased it before he lost all of his money that it would be plenty valuable enough to pay their bills), but Inigo wanted it and loved it for the sentimentality behind it. This ring was a solid, tangible piece of proof that they were on the right path the whole time, that fate was leading them together, and…

Inigo could not think of any other solutions. He bit his lip and swiped at his eyes before he could cry. He was startled when Xander carded his hand through his hair, and eventually his hand came to rest cradling Inigo’s cheek. Inigo leaned into the touch, but then he overlapped his hand with Xander’s and said “I love you, Xander. I don’t like this either, but… things are going to get better soon.”

Xander’s face looked strained. He wanted to find any other solution to their problems. Inigo did too, but… he knew this was for the best. They would keep up with the payments on the ring, they would get it back as soon as they were able… and in the meantime just because they didn’t have that ring didn’t mean they weren’t in love. They were still going to get married.

It was hard to force the smile onto his face but he did it if only for Xander’s sake. They were going to be alright. This was it—the end of their worries. Financial stability was on the horizon. “No more frowns, love. The worst is over. Smile for me.”

Inigo was surprised when Xander managed something close to a smile, but he was confident: they had nowhere to go but up.


	12. 12. September (Two Years Later)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End

_September (Two Years Later)_

 

The room Inigo was standing in was very foreign to him. Admittedly he had only been here a handful of times since his mother died. He wondered if maybe his life would have been easier if he had, perhaps, spent more of his time sitting in church. Would Naga have truly poured out blessings upon him any differently? He did not know.

He did know that the room he was in was just a little library. The walls were stuffed mostly with religious texts. It was the room that had been designated to him, to prepare for the wedding. _His wedding_. Two years ago when he was first engaged, he supposed he thought that a courthouse wedding would be the easiest way to go. It would have certainly been the most cost effective wedding to have. But Xander… Xander promised Inigo that he was in absolutely no rush, so long as they were together. He didn’t know if that was true or not, but even if Xander was suffering through impatience every day of his life he did so with grace.

Olivia loved few things, that Inigo could remember. He was just a child when he lost her, of course. But she loved to dance, and she loved watching cheesy romance movies, and she loved traditional wedding stories… and so Inigo wanted to have as traditional of a wedding as he could muster, if only because he thought it truly would honor his mother’s memory.

Lissa and Maribelle certainly agreed with the idea. They were more than willing to help pay for the cost of the ceremony, as well, but Inigo and Xander chose not to ask for their money. They had all the time in the world to do it right, to do it themselves.

Xander worked a very simple job. Inigo could admit that when he first began working again it had worried him. He thought Xander may slip back into his stressful, work-centric life. He did not. He worked regular enough hours that he could spend plenty of time keeping up with his hobbies. He went to family get-togethers again. Both did, and Inigo was happy to see it was almost just as it was before. They came together for birthdays and to go ice skating and to have dinners every other week at Camilla and Elise’s home. The table expanded with them. Inigo was welcomed back with open arms. Niles started showing up again after a short while, and eventually he started bringing Owain with him. They made space at the table for Corrin’s son, Kana, when he came along. Inigo was happy to see that their family was so strong. The table was large and the willingness to accept one another was larger.

“Honestly it’s just appalling how uneducated men are today on dressing themselves properly.” Maribelle’s voice brought a hint of a smile to Inigo’s face. She had lectured him on this for a few minutes, but he wasn’t bothered by it. He thought she was just excited and nervous, and making everything perfect was how she wanted to cope with that. “Tell me, Inigo, was this cummerbund really so tricky? There, it’s perfect now.”

He slid his eyes down to glance at the fabric at his waist. He didn’t really know that he had ever _worn_ one before, but he did know that he was not going to argue his ignorance as an excuse to Maribelle. “It looks wonderful. Thank you very much.”

Maribelle’s hair was pinned up in elegant curls but Lissa’s hair was down, splayed over her shoulders in a way that was very elegant and even unlike her. Her smile and her excitement were still in place, however, and she said “You look so grown up Inigo! Olivia would have been so proud to see you now!”

Olivia would have been proud, yes. Inigo thought that was most certainly true… but she would have been proud of him for everything he had accomplished in two years. He built his life with Xander from the ground up!  She would have called him brave. He thought he could imagine her voice saying it, if he closed his eyes.

Of course, the words were a compliment and they still brought a telltale blush to Inigo’s cheeks when he nodded his head at her. “Ah, thank you, Aunt Lissa, but I’m sure I pale by comparison to how lovely you look today.”

Lissa opened her mouth like she planned to argue with Inigo on the subject. He thought she was sweet. She probably would have told him that he was very handsome and that his wedding was going to be incredible. She didn’t get the chance however, because one of the ushers at the church swooped in and asked if he could seat them, now.

Inigo’s stomach twisted with nerves. It was almost time. He waved farewell to his aunts as they were escorted out of the room, but then he twisted his fingers together behind his back. What was there to be nervous about? This wedding was a long time coming. He was eternally faithful in Xander’s love for him. They were _soulmates_. Worrying seemed pointless, and yet… He had butterflies fluttering around his belly.

He was distracted by those butterflies and that was probably why he jumped when the door opened. His head snapped up. Was it the usher? Was it time? He wasn’t ready. He needed more encouragement. His aunts were lovely but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t the usher, though. It was Owain and Niles. Owain was dressed quite nicely. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone that Inigo asked Owain to stand by his side on the day he was married, really. Niles, on the other hand, was dressed somewhat less formally. He was not a groomsman, just a guest.

A guest with a phone and a nasty habit of using absurd snapchat filters during meaningful moments. “I am here, Inigo of the Indigo Skies, to take your arm and walk you to your brilliant future—it will be bittersweet to surrender you to your husband, but I know that you will be in good hands and I—!”

“This is all well and good,” Niles interrupted Owain, and he crossed his arms while he looked between the two of them. “Now, tell me again why you are letting Owain walk you down the aisle? I thought that was a pretty outdated, _kind of_ sexist, bride… thing.”

“Believe it or not,” Inigo began, and he felt a smile slide onto his lips. He was glad these two were here to distract him momentarily… even if it was time to go. “Owain is my best friend. And it is for the tradition. My mother loved those sort of traditions—as do I.”

That and… Inigo couldn’t have imagined anyone else to give him away. Owain had been by his side his whole life. He was there for him as children hiding in a cupboard, he was the hero who ran for help, and he grew into the man that still was his very best friend, and brother. And… he was sure that Owain would take it seriously—even if he was being a bit of a doof right then.

Niles opened his mouth but instead of words Inigo heard a knock on the open door. He turned his head in that direction, just glanced… but that was enough for him to recognize the form of his beloved fiancé. His face filled with heat so fast it physically made him dizzy, but Inigo still managed to duck behind Owain turn to face the opposite wall. “Don’t look at me!” He shouted.

Xander stared after him silently at first, but then Inigo heard him chuckle under his breath. Xander himself said he didn’t believe in karma, but should he be at least somewhat concerned when it could affect their future? There had to be a reason why you weren’t supposed to see each other before the ceremony, right?

“Thank God, Niles, I’ve been looking everywhere,” Xander’s voice was smooth. Owain was a wall between Inigo and Xander but did that count? How serious was the superstition? “Were you able to find..?”

“Er—please!” Owain’s voice cut through their conversation… which was sort of a shame because Inigo wasn’t sure what Niles could have been looking for. It’s not _that much_ of a shame, though… because Inigo didn’t want Xander to stand there testing fate longer than he had to. “Karma is at stake here! Have your chat in the hallway!”

Niles and Xander left after that. The moment the door closed behind them Inigo breathed out a sigh of relief. The moment _after that_ he wondered what they could possibly be talking about… but he didn’t have much time to dwell on it. He was, after all, about to get married.

…

As it turned out, Inigo found out what Niles went after for Xander during the ceremony. The cathedral was decorated modestly. Bows and flowers and nothing too extravagant. The two most beautifully dressed participants were the children throwing flowers. Forrest looked darling in a puffy dress and white pantyhose and Sophie was precious when she stumbled over her own feet. They both had flowers woven into their hair and big smiles on their faces.

The flower boy and flower girl arrangement was not the surprise.

The officiator spoke in a smooth voice and asked them to recite vows. Inigo had already promised himself not to cry at his own wedding by then. He saw no reason to. He loved Xander, of course, but they had been living together for two years. This was a natural step forward. Of course, there was a part of him that thought it was reasonable to cry. They had worked so hard for this! They pulled themselves up from the pits of hell to stand there, together.

He didn’t cry though. He made it through the vows and he thought he was just _happy_. Xander looked happy. Inigo wasn’t even that shy! He had been nervous but the moment he stood in front of Xander it didn’t matter that all those people were watching them. It just mattered that Xander was watching him.

Inigo was very proud of himself because he didn’t cry… until after he had already slid a yellow gold band onto Xander’s finger. It wasn’t very expensive, but it wasn’t cheap by any means either. It was simplistic. Xander picked it out himself. It looked good there on his hand. Inigo knew that his ring matched. It was also yellow gold, a similar design.

Or at least, that was the ring he _thought_ he was going to wear. Instead of slipping that band past his knuckle though, the ring that Xander pushed up to meet his mother’s was white gold, and sparkled in a way that was both familiar and foreign…

…And Inigo started to cry.

He didn’t start to sob hysterically or anything. Just a few tears and a sniffle and the officiator was supposed to announce their marriage first, but Inigo reached up and pulled Xander’s face down to meet him in a kiss before he could even think about waiting. His heart was pounding—Owain whooped and then the whole chapel cheered—Inigo couldn’t hear anything. The only thing in his world was Xander’s lips and his hand on the back of his head pulling them closer.

Inigo had no idea how Xander found the money to get that ring back in time for their wedding. If it was careful saving or if it was sneaky budgeting or even if he wrote an essay to Maribelle for a loan… it didn’t particularly matter. What mattered was that it felt like a fairy tale. Inigo’s own personal fairytale, where he was convinced they would live happily ever after. After all… soulmates always did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY ITS OVER
> 
> Thank you to everyone who stuck with this it's been like 5 months or something crazy like that. I have cool news: 
> 
> 1\. My next fanfiction that you're going to see is a short-ish fic I am cowriting with a friend about Shigure and Dwyer.
> 
> 2\. Coming this December I am going to upload a 15-ish part collection of one-shots based in the Every Second Counts Zerodin AU, featuring Winter/Christmas themed family shenanigans. 
> 
> 3\. My next big solo fanfiction is going to be called Songbird, and I don't wanna tell you all the details but it will be romance/drama/horror themed Zerodin set in the canon verse. Get pumped I'm excited. 
> 
> 4\. I owe a couple porn one-shots as art trades so you will also probably see some more xanlow and/or zerodin porn fics too.
> 
> 5\. I am kind of looking for??? beta readers?? I mean specifically for the Every Second Counts Verse stuff. If anyone wants to read some shameless holiday-themed Zerodin and also wants to provide free beta services maybe let me know? You can send me a message on tumblr @dorkpatroller or @iggy-writes 
> 
> (but not lieano lmao u r not allowed to volunteer)
> 
> IT IS DONE FINALLY PARTY HARD


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